Troper Tales: Volume One
by RubberLotusShipper
Summary: A collection of one-shots featuring One Piece characters following various tropes. Chapter Thirty: Who did they expect to be the final boss? Blackbeard? The Five Elder Stars? Ha!
1. No Purple Dragons

I do not own TV Tropes , nor One Piece.

So, we're on my second piece of fanfiction, and my first attempt at drabbles. Note that if all goes well, this will not be the only one; I plan to alternate between different franchises for each volume.

==Chapter 1==

Zoro grimaced. They had the terrible luck of meeting up with the butt-ugly Foxy and his crew again, and thanks to Luffy's easily-riled up personality, the Strawhats had found themselves in another Davy Back Fight.

Granted, the first round had been better than he thought, what with Robin using her powers to put Porche in a multi-armed headlock. The look on Sanji's face, seeing one beautiful woman threatening to kill another, was worth this entire match.

Now, he was facing off against the all-brawn, no brains trio known as the Groggy Monsters. Again. This time, at least he was paired with people more level-headed, he thought wryly as he shot a glance at Brook. Despite his terrifying appearance, the skeleton swordsman appeared to be terrified of the giants that stood before him.

He turned his head to look at Usopp, the cowardly sharpshooter's face was even more terrified-looking than Brook's, though that may have been because he had a fully-functional face instead of a chalk-white mass of bone.

Either that, or it was because he was the ballman.

The referee's whistle blew.

In an instant, he found the ball-like Pickles charging towards him, brandishing huge swords the size of rowboats in each hand (naturally, the referee was looking the other way). Since he had no katana, Zoro sprang towards the green-clad monstrosity...

... and found his feet firmly on the green grass.

"What the hell is this?!" he roared at Foxy.

"Phephephephe! The rules prevent us from interfering with the players, and vice-versa, but no one said anything about tampering with the field!"

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me,_ Zoro thought grimly as he tried, in vain, to remove his feet from the glue-covered grass. Apparently, the grass was not only glue-covered, but was strong as steel rope, because they would not break, either. Evidently, the Groggy Monsters were wearing something on the soles of their footwear that warded off the glue.

"You're all mine, now!" Pickles chuckled as he whipped one of his swords at Zoro. Zoro bent his body backwards as far as it would go, passing beneath the blade neatly. A slight frown came over Pickles' face as he brought his other sword down in a chopping motion at Zoro.

"AAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

Pickles' sword halted in mid-chop as both he and Zoro turned to look at Hamburg (who had gone for Usopp). The huge gorilla-like man was stumbling around, gloved hands pressed to his tiny eyes. Evidently, Usopp had hit him with some sort of blinding agent.

"Hey!" screamed Foxy from the sidelines. "That's illegal! You must have distributed that with a weapon!"

Usopp grinned. "Nope. I was just carrying a packet of Sanji's curry powder in my mouth!"

Zoro smiled. They were all pirates, after all. What was a little chea-er, rule bending?

==End of Chapter 1==

If you couldn't tell, the trope known as "No Purple Dragons" refers to when someone in a contest utilizes something that should be illegal, but is not covered in the rules. The name comes from Merlin and Mad Madam Mim's shapeshifting showdown in Disney's _The Sword In the Stone_.


	2. Stab the Scorpion

I do not own TV Tropes , nor One Piece.

==Chapter 2==

Careful... careful... easy does it... don't make any sudden movements, Usopp thought. One wrong move, and it would have been all for nothing, he repeated mentally as he inched closer and closer to the lightly snoring Nami.

In his hand he cradled his trusty hammer, feller of countless beasts. It wouldn't be hard. One solid hit, and the crisis would be over. He could go back to his workshop and start working on the upgrades for Kabuto again.

He really did feel sorry about having to do it. He had grown quite fond of them, but a man had to do what a man had to do.

He raised the hammer.

Nami opened her eyes. It took approximately one second for her to register the situation.

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...!!!"

There was no time to hesitate. Usopp brought the hammer down hard. For one shining moment, the feeling of his target being smashed into a pulp brought a sort of twisted ecstasy to the long-nosed Strawhat.

Then, he felt the impact of a foot slamming into his cheek and throwing him against a wall.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO NAMI-SAN?!" Sanji roared. The look on his face would have been funny, Usopp thought, had it not been directed at him.

_I should have anticipated this_, he thought as Sanji lifted him up by the collar and began shaking him fiercely, while Nami began to join in the yelling. Of course, they would probably give him no chance to explain himself.

He cast a wistful look at the smashed remains of the scorpion on the handle of Nami's lawn chair.

==End of Chapter 2==

This chapter covers the "Stab the Scorpion" trope, in which the author makes it look like someone is going to attack one of their friends, but in reality was aiming for something harmful that was behind them. Trope Namer is the film _Predator_.


	3. Crazy Survivalist

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 3==

Why they were even here, Nami did not know. This island was way off-course, and the Log Pose took a full two weeks to set in. She wished for the hundredth time that Luffy had never won that eating contest on that last island; the grand prize had turned out to be an Eternal Pose to an island that had no official name, but was referred to by almost everybody as the Island of Meat.

Naturally, Luffy couldn't resist.

It sure didn't look like a place for livestock, Nami thought. The land was dry and sandy, and the only dwelling in sight was a roughly thatched cottage in the distance. It was creepy, to say the least.

This was one of those few times when she truly appreciated Sanji's smothering presence.

Finally, they reached the cottage. Sanji knocked on the door several times and called out twice for the owner. No response. It made no sense, Nami thought. There was still smoke billowing from the chimney. Unless... they had been murdered?

The door creaked open. Nami gave a small squeal of fright before regaining her composure. Unfortunately, this did not go unnoticed by Sanji, who proceeded to engage in his usual coddling routine of her, ending in Nami's insistence that she was fine.

A man peeked out from behind the doorway. "Kin I help youse?"

The man himself was even more frightening. His eyes were baggy and bloodshot, as if he had been awake for a month. His hair reached from his head to his waist, to say nothing of his beard. His clothes were in even worse shape, bloodstained and tattered as if he had walked through a battlefield or ten.

"Youse aren't not looking to use my supplies, are you? I told youse that it would happen one day. The animals around here don't like being slaughtered, no sir!"

"Uh, we were just wondering if this was the Island of Meat-"

"Is that what everybody's calling it now? You're about a year overdue, missy. The animals just up and revolted against us one day. They've began to learn from us. They know our strategies. Our weapons. Our thoughts and feelings. One mistake and YOU'RE DEAD!!!"

Nami flinched. Sanji's face, on the other hand, twisted into a scowl.

"Stop frightening Nami-san! Isn't there any plant life in the area?"

"None that humans can eat. I know. I've tried!"

"Then... what are we supposed to eat for two weeks?" Nami asked, a real note of panic in her voice now.

"You've got rations, right?" Sanji asked the old man. "How about sharing?"

"Dream on!" he spat rudely. "Wait a minute... you want to take over ma house and eat all ma food, right?!"

"It's nothing like that-"

"Wait! You're working for the animals, right?! Just like that no-good bastard son of mine!"

And with that, the door slammed in their faces.

Nami could practically see Sanji's anger boiling as the chef said, "Stand back, Nami-san," and began to wind up his foot, inevitably for one of his famous kicks.

The door slammed open again, only this time, the man was wielding a rifle in his hand. "I'll give youse till the count of three, or you'll be tasting the wrath of Ol' Sally and all her family!"

Sanji didn't remotely look like he was going to step down. So it's come to this, Nami thought. A guy armed with a gun versus an unarmed Sanji.

Suffice to say, the guy with the gun lost. Hard.

For a guy with such a butt-ugly house, Nami thought that night, he did have a pretty damn comfortable bed.

==End of Chapter 3==

Ah, the Crazy Survivalist. Paranoid to a fault, but often with good reason. You often find them in Apocalyptic settings, where they'll almost always get off on the wrong foot with the hero. Sometimes, they can be befriended. Sometimes not. Either way, they've almost always got something that the hero wants, namely rations and/or weapons.

Obviously, there is no Trope Namer for this one, but if you want to get a good picture of this type of character, look at the dodos from _Ice Age_, Mad-Eye Moody from _Harry Potter_, or Dale from _King of the Hill_.

Yes, it does seem a bit cruel for Nami and Sanji to kick an old man out of his own house to fend for himself against intelligent, hostile animals, but at least he's armed. Plus, it was in self-defense. Kinda.


	4. I Am Not Left Handed

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 4==

Chopper panted slightly as he continued to look at his fallen opponent. This fight was much easier than he had expected, but since he had been facing one of the Eleven Supernovas, he had expected to be beaten to a blood pulp instead of actually winning.

In truth, he had been terrified when he had seen his opponent - he remembered him as one of the Eleven Supernovas. The man, much like most of the people that he met on the Grand Line nowadays, had been huge. His style of clothing brought back uncomfortable memories of Sky Island, and there was something deeply unsettling about his smile.

Still, it seemed that due to a bizarre stroke of luck, he had somehow become separated from his weapon (whatever it was). He was obviously not made to fight without it, as he had resorted to blindly charging at Chopper with heavy-handed punches and tackles. Chopper took him out in the space of about eighty seconds. Without the Rumble Ball.

The man was down, but not unconscious. He slowly rolled around so that he was facing Chopper. Even now, his grin did not falter.

"Nice job, kid," the burly pirate commented. "But, uh, just so you know..."

And to Chopper's horror, he got up into a standing position as if Chopper's previous punches, hoof impacts, antler gorings, and rock tossings had been mosquito bites. He then struck a peculiar position that evoked another uncomfortable memory in Chopper's mind.

"Sei Mei Kikan!" the huge man roared.

_"Sei Mei Kikan!" Kumadori roared._

The man's muscles began to bulge and expand like balloons.

_His hair began to move like the tentacles of an octopus._

"Inga Zarashi!"

_"Kami Shibari!"_

The fist, driven by about fifty pounds of muscle, sped towards Chopper.

_The tentacles of hair, thrashing like steel whips, sped towards Chopper._

BAM

"I was trying to fight without using that," he smirked as he looked at the barely conscious Chopper, now stumbling around the trunk of a massive tree.

He really should stop having flashbacks, Chopper thought. One day they were going to cost him dearly

==End of Chapter 4==

How many times have you seen this one? The hero/villain has the upper hand in a battle, but wait! His opponent was holding something back and/or was under a handicap. Only thing is, they've just removed it, allowing them to turn the tables and hopefully making the fight last that much longer. Trope Namer is _The Princess Bride_.

Yes, Chopper's opponent is Urouge of the Eleven Supernovas. I didn't include his name because this is supposed to be written from Chopper's POV, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't memorized their names. Why did I use Urouge? Because he's badass. Also, his power made for a convenient way to display this trope.

Sorry if it seemed to get a bit off-topic near the end. I couldn't resist putting that part in.


	5. Almighty Janitor

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 5==

Well, that was fairly disappointing, Sanji thought as he looked around the lobby, now littered with unconscious marines. This island was said to have the strongest marines in the entire region, but it couldn't be plainer that they were average soldiers. Perhaps even worse than average.

While he did not use swords himself, he had been fighting against and alongside the marimo long enough to know that most of them did not even know how to wield a sword. It scarcely took more than one kick to bring two or three down.

The sound of a broom pushing its way along the tiled floor caught his attention. The smoking cook turned his head to see an ordinary old man, a bit on the overweight side, walk into lobby. From the man's white mustache and hunched back, Sanji estimated that he was at least sixty or so.

Man, the marines were really relaxing their standards now.

The old man lifted his head up, not an ounce of surprise in his faded-looking eyes. But when he spoke, the words came out in a clear, cold manner that surprised the young chef.

"Did you do this?"

"And what if I did?"

The old man dropped his broom. Sanji felt himself wanting to laugh, but his feelings of ridicule were almost immediately drowned out by a wave of apprehension. He suddenly remembered the feeling that the old fart at the Baratie used to give off: a feeling of immense power that kept every cook on the Baratie in line. Even he knew to give respect to the old geezer.

This old man was giving off that same feeling, that he was holding in some unknown power. Some sort of Devil fruit? Sanji theorized.

He briefly saw the glint of five sharp claws coming at him before he dived out of the way. From the sounds of it, the desk behind him had not fared so well. He looked over his opponent now: a towering behemoth covered from head to toe in brown shaggy fur. Every limb bulged with muscle. The twenty claws looked like sharped knives, ready to cut through diamond with ease.

The transformed old man gave a thunderous roar that snapped Sanji out of his thoughts. Faster than he'd have thought any regular bear could move, he dashed behind the cook and swiped his paw towards him again. This time, Sanji didn't dodge, instead bringing his knee up for a block.

It might have blocked the attack, but he was still hurled a good ten feet and was only stopped by the timely intervention of the wall behind him. For the first time since entering the base, Sanji smiled.

It seemed that this place did have its decent fighters, after all, he mused before leaping back into the brawl.

==End of Chapter 5==

The Almighty Janitor. Where would we be without you? This guy is in a lowly position at wherever he works, quite possibly the lowest position, but holds back things such as hidden super powers or an IQ of 400 for whatever reason.

Possible Trope Namer: The film _Bruce Almighty_.


	6. Tomato In the Mirror

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 6==

Funny thing, Brook thought. After having spent so much time around ghosts and ghouls and zombies and all sorts of undead folks at Thriller Bark, he shouldn't even remotely be frightened at his current situation. Hell, even if he didn't have all that... experience, he should have felt right at home. He was a walking, talking skeleton, for God's sake!

Who still couldn't face ghosts without feeling the need to hum.

He looked his pursuers over. About half a dozen, and none too good-looking, if he did say so himself. They looked like they had been staying in their graves for about thirty years or so until they had gotten bored and decided to come out and terrify everybody.

He swerved around and swung his sword right at the belly of one of them. It was a basic tactic, to fake retreat, then turn around and stab your opponent in the gut.

The only problem being, his sword went right through his target, who looked up at him reproachfully.

He opened his mouth to say something, but only a few wisps of words came out. Brook supposed that all ghosts (ones that weren't conjured by Devil fruit users, anyways) were like this - incapable of holding normal conversations with the living.

He could almost see how they could get cranky after a few centuries of that.

Never mind that, they were gaining on him! One of them was brandishing a broadsword, while another held up a torch. For a moment, Brook became panicked at the thought that they were going to burn him alive, until he realized something.

When had it turned into night? Oh well, no matter. He had led them straight into a deserted town. Not good. These places were practically playgrounds for ghosts! He gave a desperate look behind himself, only to find, to his horror, that they had gained on him, and that the biggest one was no more than five paces away.

With a herculean effort, he sprung towards the doorway of an old house. The door was still in the way, but the skeleton swordsman figured that with all the years of decay, he would be able to knock it down with ease. Still, he braced himself for impact (although, as he noted to himself, he didn't have any muscles, yohoho!).

It never came.

He felt himself tumble inside the decrepit wreck of a house. There was no moon in here to light up the inside, and without light, Brook became ten times more afraid of everything.

With a splintering CRACK the door was kicked off its hinges. Brook nearly dropped unconscious of fright on the spot, but somehow managed to steel himself against his opponent - a big, burly man with a long bushy ginger beard. In his left hand, he held something rectangular, but Brook was mainly concentrated on the right, which held a massive sword.

"D-do you want to fight?!" Brook gasped out, waving his sword menacingly. "My muscles may have since d-decayed, b-but I'm still more than a m-match for-"

"Shut up for a minute, will ya?" the man said, not even looking up. "And while you're at it, ask yourself this: how'd you get in here without so much as touching any of the walls?

Brook tried for a response, but only found himself stammering. He looked down and gasped. And almost fainted. Again.

His legs were gone. In their place was a long black tail, much like that of a serpent.

And with a (metaphorical) bang, he remembered everything.

How his straw-hat wearing captain had found One Piece in the most unlikely of places.

How each of his nakama had achieved their dreams.

How he had met Laboon again, after over fifty years.

And how he had reached the natural end of his second lifespan. Was he ninety-eight at the time, or a hundred and three? He had lost count.

The gruff man's grunt of "ready when you are" snapped him back to reality. He saw that the man's colleagues had arrived, and had placed five candles around him in a pentagonal fashion. They each had a book out in front of them (the same book, by the looks of it), and they were chanting something. It sounded not ominous, but soothing.

And with a start, Brook realized that his nakama were probably waiting for him... he was, after all, the last to die.

He let his sword fall to his side and didn't even flinch when the five men each took up a blade and plunged them straight into his skull. Well, almost.

It was a wonderful feeling, he thought, just like flying. He could no longer feel his arms or legs, or even his afro. It was as if he was a bullet shot out of a gun, heading straight to its destination without the slightest divergence or obstacle.

"Hey! It's Brook!"

"Took ya long enough, you shitty skeleton!"

"Ya up for a match, just like old times?"

He hadn't felt this happy since he saw Laboon for the second time, Brook thought.

==End of Chapter 6==

You all know this one. Some guy's fighting ghosts/demons/zombies/evil robots/whatever, and discovers that (dun dun dun) he's ONE OF THEM! When this happens, his reaction, and the reactions of those around him vary greatly, depending on the writer.

And that's how this cliche' little piece of writing was born. A bit cheesy, isn't it? I do hope one day to be able to revisit the concept of the Straw Hats dying, but the next time, it might not be so happy (evil grin).


	7. Baigar Is the Antidote

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 7==

Right now, Franky really, really hated snakes. Or anything with scales, for that matter. Even fish. Before this day, he had nothing against them; he had never so much as seen a snake except in picture books, and since he grew up in a city, he had no desire to go looking for one. After all, he had ships to build and sea kings to (try to) kill!

Of course, now that he was a pirate, visiting an island devoid of all human life (or three) was to be expected. He found that the relative quietness of the jungles (save for the birds' cawing at dawn and dusk) was a somewhat welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the never-sleeping Water 7.

The island that the Strawhats were on was not really devoid of human life; roughly three dozen villagers lived where the ship had docked, and they were the standard Grand Line islanders: friendly and dependable, but with their own strange quirks, often having to do with the geography or fauna of the island. This batch of villagers in particular were happy to help the Strawhats stock up by warning them of what was safe to eat and what wasn't. They had let the rest of the crew wander in without much fuss, but when Franky decided to set out for the western trail in search of good ship-building wood, they had, for some reason, been riled up into a panic.

When he had asked them to explain themselves (none too politely) after they all but dragged him back, they explained how fearsome snakes dwelled in that part of the jungle. Even the most fierce of jungle cats and wild dogs steered clear of it. The snakes, they said, grew as big as twenty meters in length, but size hardly mattered. One bite from even the smallest of them, they claimed, and you might as well be on your way to hell, because there was no cure for their venom. For the next ten minutes, they had all told tales of how a single drop of venom was enough to fall a man in a single minute, and how a tree would turn into a leafless caricature of itself if they so much as touched the tip of their fangs to the trunk.

In fact, they had been so busy with their tall tales (Franky was sure that even Usopp would be impressed with them) that they had failed to notice Franky had given them the slip. Snakes or not, the shipwright decided, there was definitely some good-quality wood on the western trail!

He had just been inspecting a tall oak, tall and strong but not too old, when he had sensed ill intent all around him. Barely a second later, several snakes had launched themselves out of the trees and right at him. He easily strangled two of them with his beefy arms, but the third somehow managed to slip past his defenses and deliver a painful bite to the back. It was odd, Franky thought, that it would bite him there when his arms and chest were all exposed. It was almost as if they knew that his entire front contained nearly no veins to pierce and was almost solid metal...

A sharp pain in his stomach jolted him back to reality. He had been slowly wandering in reverse on the western trail for the last five minutes, but he knew that he had covered only a couple hundred meters at most. The villagers hadn't been bragging (well, maybe a little) - the snakes' venom really _was_ that potent. Even now, he could feel his body beginning to become sluggish. It was probably because his body was half metal that he wasn't pushing up daisies yet.

Wait, what was he thinking?! He was Franky, the SUPER shipwright who would sail to the edge of the world! He couldn't... die... here...

Franky collapsed against the trunk of a massive tree. Great. Now even his vision was starting to fail him. The watery sunlight that pervaded through the leaves made his field of vision even worse, and he began to feel his forehead heating up. Not good. Definitely not good.

SPLAT.

"What the...?" Franky murmured. It took a while to register that something cold and wet had made contact with him, and a few more moments to realize that it was around his mouth area. Instinctively, he swallowed, and was treated to a strange sensation - a mixture of sweetness and bitterness that reminded him of cola.

In the distance, he heard the mischievous hooting of some monkey. Lacking the strength to even get up and yell at it, Franky simply continued to swallow the juices in his mouth (the fruit itself had fallen to the ground). So, this was to be his tomb...

Twice, he made attempts to get up. If he was going to die here, he was certainly _not_ going to make it easy for the venom and simply close his eyes and shrivel up! He picked up the fruit from the ground and crammed it into his mouth. At least he got to eat something interesting on his deathbed...

He struggled once more to get to his feet, and this time, to his surprise, he succeeded.

Now that he thought about it, the pains that had plagued him seemed to be fading...

And the heat coursing through his entire body a few moments ago was cooling...

And his entire body felt like renewed strength had been pumped into it...

He still felt pretty bad, but at least he could walk now. Within the next five minutes, he had finally made it to the edge of the jungle. By now, the effects of the venom had been reduced to a state that was no worse than a hangover (but he could not accurately compare, since he rarely got drunk).

What a weird world they lived in, Franky thought. Snake venom being cured by _fruit_...

==End of Chapter 7=

Did a dangerous snake bite you? A few sips of grandma's carrot stew will put you right as rain! Accidentally drank from a contaminated stream? The berries growing on the trees along the shore will spruce you back up! Secret syndicate's specially-developed body-destroying poison turn you into a six-year old? Just gulp down some Chinese rice booze!

Sadly, in real life, antidotes to poisons are typically made rather than discovered.

Trope Namer: The anime/manga series Detective Conan (Case Closed in English-speaking countries).


	8. Clark Kenting

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 8==

"LUFFY!!!!!"

Nami's voice thundered through the Sunny, pervading all of its nooks and crannies like poison gas. Even the wildlife seemed to instinctively know to avoid her at the moment, because birds were scattering into the air in masses so thick that it looked like plumes of smoke to the crew of a ship docked nearby.

It made Monkey D. Luffy all the more determined to not get caught.

Normally, he would not be so afraid of her. After all, Sanji was much stronger, and beat him up for stealing food on a daily basis. Compared to him, Nami's punches usually bounced right off. Today, however, something told him that she was in an extra-super-pissed mood. To be caught would be to suffer a beating like the one she gave him back on Water 7 when she found out he had spent a hundred million beli on food.

Not daring to look behind himself, Luffy dashed right into the the town that stood before him. He ran and ran and ran through the cobbled streets. Everything around him became a mass of colorful blurs and incomprehensible sounds that he only paid the barest attention to.

In fact, he ran for so long that he began to forget why he was running. It probably didn't help that his nostrils were picking up the scent of freshly cooked meat. He skidded on his sandal-clad heels, stopping in front of a restaurant.

Ten minutes later, he ran out of the restaurant, his arms laden with chicken legs and a ham clenched between his teeth. The large, burly manager had demanded money from him, and he didn't have any at the moment, but honestly, that was no excuse to deny him food!

He crammed another chicken leg into his mouth and dove into a small alley. Thankfully, the man dashed right past.

"Can I help you, kiddo?"

The voice that had said the sentence was raspy. Luffy disregarded this piece of information, however, and turned to face the one who had said it while at the same time swallowing his mouthful of chicken.

It was an odd-looking man, with a shiny black top hat perched on his head. His only piece of clothing seemed to be the long, flowing black cloak which ran from his shoulders all the way to his feet, blocking even his shoes from view. Stranger yet, his face was covered in a yellow mask. The features on it were sinister and mocking, with half-moon slits for eyes and a curved mouth in an amused little smile.

Beside him was a medium-sized wooden cart, with a harness at the front for horses (who were nowhere in sight). On the side that wasn't facing the alley wall were an assortment of masks, of all shapes, sizes, and colors. A few were shaped like animal heads, but most of them were colorful, wild-looking ones that didn't look like anything.

"Do you have anything to eat, ojisan?" Luffy asked (even though the stranger's getup made identifying his age impossible) while stuffing the rest of the chicken legs into his mouth.

The man seemed about to answer, but two simultaneous cries of "aha!" interrupted their conversation. Luffy didn't need to turn around to know who was looking at him; one of the voices was shrill and female, the other deep and male.

This was just not his day.

His head swiveled from side to side, desperately looking for a method of escape. He was about to stretch his arms up to the top of the alley wall for a quick escape when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Panicked, he turned around to see that it was the masked man. Nami and the restaurant manager were still stomping down the alley at a steady (but terrifying pace). The masked man, seemingly oblivious to this, held up a mask.

"Put this on."

Luffy regarded the mask. It was an ordinary one, flesh-toned in color. In fact, the only piece of decoration on it was the fact that that a pair of glasses were painted around the eye holes.

_The perfect disguise! No need to run and get lost again!_ Luffy thought as he gleefully put the mask on.

His two pursuers were still stomping down the alley, but a bit of their anger seemed to have evaporated. Instead of looking furious, they looked a bit confused.

"Ah, excuse me, sir," Nami said to Luffy, who flinched. "Have you seen a monkey-faced idiot in a red vest and blue shorts, and a straw hat?"

The manager merely nodded.

Luffy began sweating, in spite of his relief. "Uh, I think he went that way!" he said, pointing toward the open end of the alley.

"Thanks!"

As the two strode out of the alley, Luffy held his breath. Only when they were completely out of sight did he take the mask off and let out his held-in breath.

"Thanks a million, ojisan!"

The masked man let out a raspy laugh. "No problem! Say, wanna buy it? It's only a hundred thousand beli!"

"I don't have any-"

But at that moment, a gust of wind blew through the alley. A piece of yellowed paper blew into the alley along with it, colliding with the masked man's face.

"What the-"

The masked man took the paper off and looked at it. Suddenly, he tore his eyes away from the paper and looked at Luffy, then at the paper again.

"M-M-M-M-Monkey D. Luffy! AUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

And with that, he dashed out of the alley as if the devil himself was on his heels. Not even turning around when he gave the yell, he cried out "keep the cart!"

Luffy scratched his head, confused. He looked down at the mask in his hands.

Somehow, life was about to get a lot more interesting.

==End of Chapter 8==

Over the years, writers have come up with a ton of "reasons" why no one realizes that Superman was Clark Kent: He uses different body language; The emblem on his chest draws people's attention away from his face; He uses 'super-hypnotism', etc. Not surprisingly, they have failed to keep most people from mocking the phenomenon.

While Superman/Clark Kent uses and abuses it the most, a lot of other characters have used it as well, sometimes with even flimsier (if that can even be believed) disguises. At least sometimes, writers have the grace to justify it as 'magic', as I've done here.


	9. What Measure Is A Mook

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 9==

It wasn't something that bothered her, but once in a while, Robin would often think about how out of all the Strawhats, she probably had the highest body count. This was admittedly partially due to anyone who had been sailing on the Grand Line for more than a month being ridiculously hard to kill - just last week, she had seen Luffy punch a man through three brick walls in a row and saw the guy getting up a few hours later, worse for wear, but alive.

Then there was the fact that a lot of them typically were not fighting to kill; they would pull out whatever big, flashy attacks they had up their sleeves and hope for the best. From what she had heard, this killed almost nobody (to their knowledge) except nameless soldiers.

She, on the other hand, was used to death, ever since the annihilation of Ohara by the Buster Call. She could still remember her first kill, back when she was but a fifteen-year old. As usual, she had been scampering around the next town she found, looking for scraps of food and avoiding the marines at all costs (not to mention tearing down any wanted posters of her that she could find), when _he_ came along.

The years had somewhat dulled the memory, but she could still remember the man's drunken, slurred speech and nauseating odor. He had to have been twice her size, and he wanted to do some... things with her. And it seemed that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

She had panicked then. Obviously, she did not have the composure that she possessed now at age fifteen. Before then, she had seldom used her powers to fight beyond frightening the kids who threw things at her, but this was different.

_"Hey, pretty lady! How 'bout you and me have a lil' fun?"_

_She remained silent, but she could feel her heartbeat going through the roof._

_"Come on now, there's no need to be shy!"_

The ending to that particular encounter was gruesome, to say the least. The local law enforcement was baffled as to how it happened, but since the man was not popular or even well-known, the case was soon dropped.

Oddly enough, after she had gotten over the initial shock of it, she didn't feel as horrified as she thought she would feel. Maybe it was because the man was about to violate her. Maybe it was because she had just met him. Maybe it was in her blood.

Either way, by the time that she had showed up at Crocodile's office, killing was no longer anything special to her.

After she had joined the Strawhats, this mindset had not changed much. While Luffy himself almost never killed, he didn't seem to have any objections against his crewmates killing people. Robin suspected that deep down, he knew that killing was sometimes vital to a pirate's life.

She calmly gazed at the battle on the marine ship right next to the Sunny from her lawn chair. An explosion, no doubt created by Franky or Usopp, had just sent a dozen marines flying overboard. A few marines had somehow miraculously made it onto the Sunny itself.

"We're placing you, Nico Robin, under arrest in the name of the law!" barked the tallest-looking of the marines, a stern-looking man with a black beard and sideburns. Robin looked up at him; he seemed somewhat familiar...

"Remember me?" he sneered. "When we last met, you completely humiliated my commander! He never lived it down!"

"Commander...? His name was Robert, correct? I let him live, didn't I?"

The marine gave a furious yell, unsheathed his sword, and charged Robin. Robin sighed and closed her eyes. She found it best to concentrate that way. Seconds later, a strangled scream told her that it was okay to open her eyes.

He laid on the ground, his face blue from lack of oxygen. The two arms wrapped around his throat disappeared, but the blue color did not.

Maybe it was because she didn't know their names that made killing them easier to live with...

==End of Chapter 9==

It seems that in most works of fiction, one's chances of survival are somehow linked to how well the audience knows them (there are many exceptions, however, especially when they decide to kill off a member of the main cast for shock value). Nameless, faceless soldier #749 is gonna get gunned down without anyone batting an eye, but when the heroes get to the main villain, they somehow can't bring themselves to kill him (undoubtedly to pass on some Aesop about mercy or something).

For those of you not familiar with the term, a 'mook' is slang for any nameless, expendable henchman. They typically dress in all the same outfits and have a high mortality rate, to say the least.


	10. Spanner in the Works

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 10==

Crocodile didn't know how he got there, but he somehow found his back against the wall. This was an unexpected blessing, as the cell that he was kept in was jam-packed with criminals, and there were no beds, nor any other furniture. When the time came to sleep, they simply had to make do where they were, as most of them could barely move.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had been shut in this hellish place for less than a year, and already he could understand how effective it was in separating the weak from the strong. Every day, more reports came in of someone bleeding to death. Or eaten. Or dying of malnutrition. Or boiled alive. Or being frozen solid. Or some combination of the above.

Impel Down was truly a wondrous place. When he overthrew the World Government, he would try not to destroy it.

But, enough thinking about the present and future, he noted. As a pirate with a career that lasted longer than twenty-five years, he had no shortage of memories. Over the years, most of them had been declared worthless and buried, only the faintest trace of them left in the deepest corners of his mind.

Many more, however, made the cut, even to this day.

_The scrawny youth pressed his back against the wall. Timing was key if this plan was to work, and despite many backups, he really hoped that it would work. He had no intention of staying on the pirate ship all his life; the captain was a tyrant, and his first mate was a snitch that reported any and all "infractions" to him. Most of the crew had been pressed into service against their will, but there wasn't much that they could do about it._

_The thunderous BOOM of a cannon alerted him to his (hopefully) saviors' arrival. He had been on watch duty that night, but staying in the crow's nest in this weather without so much as a coat made it... unpleasant, to say the least. Normally, the first mate kept watch, but tonight, he knew, the man would be fast asleep._

_It sure paid to know what the juices of the Ringo-Rango melon could do mixed into alcohol._

_The cannonball landed into the water, barely five feet from the ship. It might not have hit the ship, but he knew, just as even the most scatterbrained sailor knew, that this was enough to seriously rock the ship off course. _

_And of course, it would wake everybody up. _

_The next ten minutes were filled with screams of both anger and terror. Of pistols and clashing swords. Of cannons booming at one another. _

_Naturally, anyone who wasn't fighting (or couldn't) were prowling the ship for him. No doubt to beat him for either not joining the battle or not raising the alarm._

_Despite his frame, he was actually one of the better combatants on the ship. Swords meant little to him, but he could still wield one adequately. Pistols were more to his liking, as he was a pretty accurate marksman, but the entire reloading process every time he fired was a tremendous pain in the ass. _

_At heart, however, he was a brawler who used whatever he could find to turn a fight to his advantage. He wasn't like those muscle-bound guys in bars who wore spiked gauntlets - instead, he ducked and weaved around his opponent's attacks, and, whenever possible, stole their weapons to use against them. Still, since he was a lowly underling, he still didn't have a bounty of his own yet - not that he was complaining._

_He crept up the crow's nest (probably the last place his harebrained companions would think to look for him) and pulled out his emergency pistol. Looking down onto the deck of the ship, he could see more marines than pirates engaged in battle. They were winning. _

_His eyes scanned the ship, looking for his target. At last, he spotted what was undoubtedly the captain of the marines, engaged in battle with his own captain. It seemed that he, too, was a swordsman. The two men's blades danced in the dim moonlight, drawing flecks of blood every now and then._

_He raised the pistol, keeping his eyes trained on his target. His mind narrowed until shooting his target down was all that mattered. Then, he squeezed the trigger._

_Bang!_

_A scream, then he collapsed like a giant rag doll, his body hitting the deck with a final THUMP. They cheered._

_The marines, that is._

_Without their captain, the rest of the crew didn't stand a chance. Despite his tyrannical personality, he was still the best combatant on the ship, and now that he was no longer occupied with the man, the marine captain easily defeated the rest of the crew almost entirely by himself._

_He was the last one that they marched from the ship, no doubt due to no one wanting to go that high in the cold weather. Finally, they searched the crow's nest and found him; he had not even tried to hide himself. _

_"Hey," one of the marines laughed. "I think that this is the guy who tried to shoot our captain!"_

_"Nice going, dumbass!" another one snickered. "Don't you know? Our captain Thomas saw you long before you even set your eyes on him!"_

_"Turn out your pockets, now! Wouldn't want you to bring any sharp, nasty objects onboard!" _

_He did as he was told. _

_"Now, walk!"_

_He stayed still and placed a hand on his earring. It was nothing fancy; just a piece of gold metal piercing his earlobe. _

_"Did you hear me?!" the marine demanded. He shot out a hand, aiming for the boy's wrist. Quick as lightning, he whipped his hand from the earring, pulling it apart and revealing the tiny hidden blade inside, and stabbed it into the marine's hand with all his strength._

_"Son of a...!"_

_The other marine made a grab for him as well. A sharp jab from the blade seemed to only make him angrier. Until three seconds later, when he dropped dead alongside his companion. The youth grinned to himself at his own genius. He had begged his captain for earrings at the previous town, and, in what little spare time he had, managed to modify it into a hidden blade. The poison was one of his own concoction - they always did say he had a way with chemicals._

_He peered over the rim of the crow's nest at the marine ship. No one was on deck. Good. Swiftly but silently, he ran onto the gangplank and boarded the vessel. He could hardly believe that his plan worked this well, but it was only half-completed. He would still have to find whatever money and rations he could get his hands on and avoid being detected until the ship arrived at its next destination. Then, he could say goodbye to this second-rate crew and start a new life._

_Judging from the sounds below, the crew was having a party. He smiled to himself and walked as quietly as possible down the stairs leading below deck. He tiptoed past the kitchen, where what appeared to be the entire crew were gathered, drinking and partying. He continued down the corridor, stopping at every door to listen for any sounds. If there were none, he would peek in._

_It took four tries, but at last he found the storage room. Still, it was too early to be celebrating. The hardest part was yet to come..._

_A week later, he felt it appropriate to start celebrating. The marines had docked on an inhabited island for supplies, and just beyond the walls of the ship was a massive city. He had begun to miss them..._

_He double checked everything on him. Approximately a hundred thousand beli were safely tucked into a small bag inside his shirt. Two small daggers had been acquired and hidden in each boot. Beside him lay a medium-sized satchel, filled with fruit, bread, and some beer._

_From what he gathered, they had left a few men to guard the ship, but as soon as the main party were out of sight, they had scampered into the city as well. This was too easy. Hoisting his bag, he made his way cautiously up the stairs and on deck._

_He was treated to one of the nastiest surprises of his life. _

_At least five or six marines were dashing back toward the vessel. Running from them was a boy that couldn't have been older than thirteen. Obviously one of those street urchins who turn to thievery. _

_There was a tense silence as the two parties made eye contact. Then, all hell broke loose._

_The marines drew their pistols and fired off half a dozen shots at him. He barely got down in time. From the sound coming from below, the boy had apparently thought they were aiming for him, and in a panic, blindly threw himself at one of them._

_There might be a chance of salvaging the plan after all, he thought._

_On a wave of pure instinct, he jumped. It was easy enough to land. Dealing with armed marines, not so easy. All of them had noticed his arrival, and they were closing in on him. Even he knew that he was completely screwed in this situation. The nearest marine, one with a sword drawn, slashed across his face. He leapt back to avoid a serious wound, but it still cut his face open._

_It really hurt like hell, but he didn't feel like dying right now._

_So, he turned tail and ran. He heard the marines reloading their pistols behind him. Luckily, there was a large crowd of shoppers heading his way, so busy chatting, it seemed, that they had not noticed the ruckus. With a burst of speed, he dashed right into the crowd, dispersing them. He heard the marines curse as they chased after him, yelling out for someone to stop him._

_He ran and ran and ran, never looking back even once. Finally, he stopped in a small alley that didn't seem to be inhabited. It was there that he was treated to another nasty surprise. _

_The satchel containing his rations had ripped. Everything had leaked out. It was a miracle, he thought, that the marines had not used the trail of food to track him down. Great. Now he was in a city all by himself with nothing to eat. Oh, well. At least he had money. _

_Right now, however, he was starving. He reached into his pockets and pulled out the one piece of fruit that would fit in there: a strange-looking cherry with swirls all over it._

_'Bon Appetit,' he thought to himself as he threw it down his gullet._

And then, he woke up. He didn't know why. Nothing had disturbed him. To this day, Crocodile mused, he wasn't sure whether the boy had helped or hindered him more.

==End of Chapter 10==

And that, little ones, is now Monsieur Crocodile got his facial scar. And yes, that is the Suna Suna no Mi at the end.

This trope was formerly known as the Xanatos Gilligan, something completely out of the blue that renders a well-laid plan to shambles. They are the bane of strategists everywhere. This chapter was originally supposed to be about the Xanatos Gambit, but I figured that Crocodile's plan relied too heavily on chance for it to be one.

Former Trope Namer: The show _Gargoyles_ (which provided the "Xanatos" part) and _Gilligan's Island_ (which provided the "Gilligan" part).


	11. All that Glitters

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 11==

Buggy slowly made his way towards the gleaming chest mere feet away from him. The look on his face was a mixture between weariness and greed. One may be wondering why he didn't just dash over to the treasure, or better yet, simply detach his hands to grab it. The answer to that was simple.

It was located inside a massive underground temple (seriously, the place practically took up the entire island) that was filled with so many booby traps that the damn place must have taken ten-no, twenty years to complete.

The greedy clown was no stranger to a trap or two, but this place was seriously just too over-the-top. He was starting to really think that his informant had lied somewhere between the encounter with the endless swarm of hornets in the third chamber and the fire-breathing "murals" in the fifth.

Of course, that's why he dragged him along.

Buggy turned and cast a smirk towards the skinny man behind him. He was obviously not built to fight, but it was surprising how fast he had acted when those giant axe blades began to swing from every direction in the third corridor (or was it the fourth?). If the entire thing turned out to be a ruse, then the man was definitely a good actor, because he denied that he had made it all up every step of the way, even when Buggy threatened to drop him into the crocodile pool.

Thank God for his Bara Bara powers, Buggy thought, because without them, he would have died a long time ago. They didn't protect him against the countless nasty insects inside the temple or the room that flooded itself with water, but he certainly fared better than his men. The injuries of his loyal (if dim) men ranged from concussions to smashed ribs to third-degree burns to death. Even Mohji and Cabaji had gotten several bruises, cuts, and burns out of the whole ordeal.

But it had all paid off, he thought. The chest had to be at least as tall as he was. He could only imagine what was in it. Gold coins? Silver bowls? Rubies? Sapphires? Emeralds? Diamonds? Pearls? All of the above?

Still, he had enough sense to not let it overwhelm him. The floor before him was covered in a multitude of colorful mosaics that somehow hadn't faded over time. Someone else might have disregarded them, but Buggy knew that stepping on them was likely to trigger some sort of trap (the very first chamber proved this).

Thus, he detached his body from the waist up and slowly floated toward the chest. He was ten feet... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three...

He could feel his heart beating against his ribs as he got closer and closer. Not just out of anticipation for the treasure, but out of wariness as well. After all that he had gone through in the previous chambers, he couldn't help but think that this was too easy. He then proceeded to stamp these thoughts out of his head like a cockroach. He had come this far: the treasure was his!

With a yell of triumph, he grabbed the chest. It was then that he noted the keyholes on it. Not keyhole, but keyhole**s**. Ten in all, glittering dimly in the torchlight. Pfft. Like that was going to stop him.

Still, they posed a bit of a problem. Buggy rested one hand on the chest's lid (wincing slightly from the blisters on his palms), pondering how to open the locks. He felt the section of wood give way, and a collection of clicks and whirs told him that he had activated some secret switch to open the chest.

He ran a gloved hand over the keyholes and realized that they were all painted on. For a moment, he felt like laughing. Whoever made it sure had a great sense of humor! He placed his fingers beneath the lid and heaved.

... and almost died of shock on the spot.

The chest was _empty_.

Buggy's eyes scanned every inch of the inside. His mind refused to believe it. How could it be? He went through a barrage of poisonous snakes, lost about two or three men, got attacked by swarms of bats at every corner, was smashed between two stone walls, almost got roasted twice, was chased by a swarm of angry hornets, and almost drowned for _nothing_?

It had to be a trick or something. Briefly, his eyes darted towards the wall behind the chest, hoping to see another doorway, a set of stairs, anything!

But there was nothing.

Buggy shifted the torch that he held in his hand so that he could see the chamber better. The movement of the light briefly exposed something inside the chest that caught his eye. He shifted the torch directly over the chest to get a better look at it.

It was writing, crooked letters in blood-red ink.

_Well, that was fun, wasn't it?  
You've probably went through dozens of hardships  
In pursuit of riches  
And you received it  
May you share the story of this adventure  
With generations yet to come_

Buggy felt his mind go blank. Then he felt a bomb go off in his brain.

Before he knew it, he was cursing and raving at everything and anything. He cried. He laughed. He danced. He threw things. He did anything he could think of to vent his rage, but it wasn't until he bashed the informant's head against one of the walls about a dozen times that he began to calm, if only a tiny bit.

Lord, he was going to hold a really big party tonight. Good thing they had hijacked that marine delivery ship two days ago...

==End of Chapter 11==

In direct competition with the "there was a treasure, but they lose it" situation for the title of "most overused ending to a treasure hunt" is this trope. It was natural to choose Buggy for the role, seeing how his enormous greed is only outstripped by Nami's (maybe).

No, the long update is _not_ because of the lack of reviews. I simply had a hard time finding a trope that would be easy to convey into a purely text-based story.


	12. Worthless Yellow Rocks

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 12==

Those who never saw Vice-Admiral Garp in person often thought that he was a fierce general who accepted no nonsense from his subordinates. After all, how else would he have cornered the great pirate king, Gold Roger, on so many occasions? Those who spent a bit more time around him realized that despite his gruff exterior and sometimes idiotic behavior, there was a genuinely good (if a bit insane) man underneath. Indeed, his cheerfulness seemed to be unbreakable, be it dawn or dusk.

Those who had spent long periods of time around him, however, knew better. Like any man, Garp had certain things that would set him off, turning him into a blazing engine of destruction that the pirate king himself would fear. This chapter, however, is not about that particular trope.

Garp's spectrum of emotions didn't solely consist of happiness and anger, however. Rare as it may be, he too, could be in a bad mood. Not one of those lash-out-at-everybody-and-get-over-it-in-a-matter-of-minutes-by-punching-stuff bad moods. The kind that made him instead reclusive and reluctant to talk. Today was one of those days. What was the cause? A pirate attack.

Of course, it didn't occur in front of him, or he'd have swept the floor with them. This one had occured many miles away, on a run-of-the-mill marine supply ship. Who the hell would be stupid enough to attack a marine ship, Garp didn't know, and he didn't care.

All that mattered were the donuts.

The battle had been one of _those _battles, where one side was clearly losing, and tried their best to drag their opponent down with them. This time, it had worked all too well; both ships were at the bottom of the sea now, along with this month's supply of his favorite treat.

He felt tears stinging his eyes just thinking about it. Real men weren't supposed to cry, but in this case, he couldn't help it. The thought of hundreds of those tiny, sweet dough loops floating in the sea, never to be eaten (unless they were eaten by sea kings) was almost too much to bear.

He slammed his fist into a nearby stone wall, forgetting once again just how strong he was. He barely felt the stone crumble into powder, and only gave the smallest of double-takes when he heard an odd sound, like thousands of tiny pebbles dropping onto the ground.

Before him lied a small mound of what looked like pebbles, glowing in the sunlight.

"Whoa."

Garp turned around to see another marine, an ordinary soldier by the looks of his uniform, staring at him. It took a few moments for him to realize that the man was staring not at him, but at the diamonds behind him instead. Garp's eyes similarly widened.

The man was holding an uneaten donut.

"Where'd you get that?!" Garp demanded, pointing at said donut.

"Uh... from the last island that I visited?"

"Give it to me!"

"No way! I bought it fair and square!"

"As an officer with a rank superior to yours, I demand that you give up possession of that donut!"

"Uh... how 'bout this? You give me those... er... rocks behind you, and I'll give you all of them!"

"There's more?!"

"Lots more!"

"Deal!"

At dinner, Garp was humming happily to himself at his good fortune. The marine had purchased several boxes of donuts, which were sure to keep him sustained for at least a week or two. As he began eating a steak the size of a man's head, he heard footsteps drawing closer and closer.

"Ah, Fleet Admiral Sengoku!" he said through a mouthful of beef. "What brings you here? Don't you usually eat in your quarters?"

Sengoku's face looked even grimmer than usual. "We found one of our hidden treasure caches defiled, and the diamonds in it stolen!"

"The hidden treasure what-nows?"

"They're there in case the main treasury is looted! Us marines aren't gods! We need money too!"

"Uh, where was this ca-shay thingy?"

"In a stone wall right by the entrance to the practice halls!"

Garp felt a drop of sweat slide down his neck. "Uh, well, you see..."

Not even a minute into his story, Sengoku began screaming at the top of his lungs about what kind of idiot would trade diamonds for donuts. Garp still couldn't understand why he was so angry. Who wouldn't trade a handful of shiny but inedible pebbles for those sweet, moist, gooey treats?

"Garp! Are you even listening to me, dammit?! Those diamonds are worth over ten million beli! Do you have any idea how many ships that can buy?!"

He just hoped that Sengoku wouldn't wake up with laryngitis in the morning. Again.

==End of Chapter 12==

For better or worse, us humans place a great deal of value on things like green paper, yellow lumps of metal, and smelly black goop made from dinosaur corpses (although the first thing, the third thing, and a match WOULD make for an interesting combination). Some people, however, find little to no value in such things, and either throw them away or trade them for common, everyday things. This may or may not be coupled with everyday things such as onions or aluminum being much more valuable to them.

In short, if you want to see this trope in action, check out the Skypeia arc.


	13. One Dialogue Two Conversations

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 13==

Ace knew he was in trouble the minute he heard those shoes pounding in his direction.

He didn't run. He didn't hide. He knew that anybody with a lick of sense would do both, but if he was going to be a man one day (and hopefully, a pirate), he would have to stop running away.

He did not regret what he had done. Honestly, his younger brother was just too innocent for his own good. He was surprised that the kid hadn't already been pushed far enough by Garp's training. Besides, he wanted to be a pirate too, and this was instrumental to becoming one.

The footsteps finally caught up.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" Makino thundered.

Besides that little internal monologue up there, Ace had been rehearsing how best to answer Makino. The woman was the closest thing that he and Luffy had to a mother; neither of them had even known their biological parents. It was obvious that she would not take it well.

He turned around to face the livid barmaid.

"Look, Makino-san, you know how much Luffy wants to become a pirate! If he didn't learn, he's got no chance in Hell!"

"That doesn't excuse the fact that he's a six-year old!"

"I've got to teach him the basics before gramps' training actually sticks!"

Makino snorted. "If you ask me, a little discipline in the marines would do you two some good!"

Now it was Ace's turn to snort. "Discipline is pretty much all that they learn in that hellhole! No freedom, no girls, no nothing!"

Makino's expression told him that he had said the wrong thing. A vein had popped in the normally serene barmaid's forehead, and she was shooting a glare at him that would have made the Pirate King himself tremble. "I'm telling your grandfather."

Ace's blood ran cold. "Y-you can't! Please, Makino-san! He'd kill Luffy! And me!"

Makino's expression remained stern.

"C'mon! We all have to steal to survive!"

He instantly regretted that sentence even more. Makino looked even angrier. "Don't play dumb with me!"

Within his swirling, terrified mind, Ace felt a tiny spark of curiosity. "Play dumb?"

"I know that you gave Luffy 'The Talk'!"

_Ace felt his brain collapse. _

"I did _what_?!"

"Come to think of it, how do _you_ know?! You're hardly at a better age than he is to learn about how babies are born!"

For the first time in hours, Ace felt relief. This was all a massive misunderstanding. If he worded his explanation carefully, there might be a chance of getting out of this alive.

"Look, Makino-san, I think you misunderstood me. I was teaching Luffy how to _steal_, not giving him The Talk!"

He saw Makino's face become a fraction less angry, but he didn't dare get his hopes up just yet. Sure enough, Makino wasn't convinced. "Don't lie! I heard about Luffy going around and touching womens' breasts to see if they would squirt milk!"

Well, that went a lot better than he thought, Ace sighed. "Makino-san, I'd never teach a little kid something like that, much less my own brother!"

Makino stared hard into his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Ace stared back, determined not to break eye contact. "_Yes_!"

"The how did he - why did he -"

"If I had to guess, gramps taught it to him," Ace stated flatly. "He did it to me when I was only a bit older than Luffy is now."

He inwardly grimaced as he remembered Garp's "family life" lessons, most of which left him a quivering wreck for weeks. He despised these "training sessions" even more than the "physically challenging" ones.

Before he could say another word, he saw Makino dashing past him and down the road that led to Garp's favorite fishing spot. Well, at least he wouldn't be the only one to get bruises tonight.

==End of Chapter 13==

And here, we have a story centering on Ace & Luffy's lives in Fusha Village. Awwwww.......

Yes, this chapter may seem a bit squicky, but I wouldn't put it past Garp to give Luffy "The Talk" at childhood. "The Talk" is what turns a boy into a MAN OF DESTINY(!), after all.

Note: Luffy is six here, meaning that Ace is nine. Shanks hasn't shown up yet, and Garp hasn't left (assuming that he did stay with his kids at Fusha Village).


	14. Alien Lunch

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 14==

This island, Shanks thought, had to be one of the best ones that he had ever visited.

As a veteran of the Grand Line, Shanks had visited over dozens of islands. Some large, some small. Some with wacky yet sophisticated cultures, others that were inhabited by nothing besides wild beasts. This particular island, however, was mostly covered in thick jungle, though several spots here and there were cleared out, and small villages built.

The villagers, as it turned out, were friendly (not at all like the ones on the last island that they went to), as well as excellent cooks. In addition, it seemed that they didn't even know about Shanks and his crew's notoriety, not that they were complaining. Despite their pride in being pirates, getting chased and/or being screamed at got tiring once in a while.

Still, Shanks thought. It was an odd little island, populated yet so cut off from the rest of the world. He supposed that all islands on the Grand Line were like this to some degree, but these guys really took the cake. They didn't even know about Gold Roger or One Piece!

Luck had apparently been on their side today, as they had arrived during the village chief's daughter's wedding. After the village chief had kindly explained that a Log Pose took three days to set on this particular island, the entire crew had decided to attend, mostly for the after-party. Of course, even if the Log Pose took less than a day to set, Shanks doubted that they would decline to attend the party - pirates were born party-ers, ofter all.

The sound of an enormous wooden mug being set in front of him awoke him from his thoughts. He eyed the alcohol in front of him hungrily, before picking up the handle and chugging down half the contents of said mug (itself bigger than his head) in one gulp.

Shanks smacked his lips, pleased and content. He had tasted dozens of different types of alcohol during his career as a pirate, but there was always something new to be eaten and/or drank. This drink, in particular, wasn't as potent in alcohol as some other drinks he had tasted, but made up for it with an odd taste that seemed almost... salty.

Feeling his face get red-hot (no doubt he was blushing already), Shanks turned to the village chief, sitting on his right-hand side (or was it left?) and said, "Thisssss ssssstuff is great, ch-ch-chief!"

"Why, thank you! We only use the finest leopard blood in our drinks!"

Shanks blinked a bit. It too a good half a minute for his brain to process this information.

"You ussse only the finessssst what-nowww?"

"Leopard blood!" the chief responded proudly, thrusting his chest out. "Along with a tiny dash of sweat from our greatest warriors! And the crushed bodies of the ants and worms that live in the deepest parts of the jungle!"

Shanks blinked again and continued to sip his drink while his brain processed the new information. So that's what this delicious drink was made out of... just a bit of leopard blood... and sweat... and... crushed... ants?!

It was as if someone had fired off a cannon in his brain; Shanks got up from his seat, and, without turning around once, ran a good thirty meters into the jungle, until he came upon a small stream. That done, he looked around to make sure that nobody was looking, and heaved the contents of his stomach into the water. He stood there vomiting for a good minute before he felt his head clearing.

That done, Shanks turned around and walked back the direction he had came, all the while thinking of an excuse to drink from the stock of liquor aboard his ship instead of the stuff that the natives offered him.

He didn't think that he was going to tell the rest of his crew just yet, though... he'd been looking for a chance to get back at Yasopp for his "replace the rum with apple juice" trick...

==End of Chapter 14==

Pretty straightforward gag: a character is given some sort of meal that consists of disgusting-sounding ingredients, and may or may not look incredibly bizarre. Either way, they dig into said meal, unaware of the ingredients that it was made out of, and often, enjoy it. They then proceed to ask what it was made out of.

This can go one of two ways: either they are disgusted by said ingredients and proceed to run and get some mouthwash, or they simply don't care and continue eating.

Okay, it's a bit of a stretch for someone like Shanks to be grossed out at drinking a mixture of blood, sweat, and bugs, but every man has a weakness, right?


	15. Green Eggs and Ham

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 15==

"C'mon, Hachi! Just one bite!"

The eight-year old octopus fishman didn't even look in his friend's direction. Partially because he was concentrated on fishing (with his standard three rods), but partially because he had been asked to eat takoyaki a million times. Every time, he had answered no.

"Knock it off, Chuu!"

Hachi hid a smile. For his age, Kuroobi was more serious in personality than most adults that he knew. The closest that he had seen the ray fishman act to a kid was when he had received his first black belt. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen for days on end.

"It couldn't hurt to try!"

"How'd you like it if someone cooked your parents into a stew and asked you to try it?!"

A silence told Hachi that Kuroobi had won this round. Happy that Chuu wouldn't bug him again for at least a few hours, Hachi continued to stare at the lake in front of him, determined to finally catch something today (he seemed to have a knack for coming up with everything from sandals to bad-tempered turtles).

Five hours later, when the sun had began to set, and both Kuroobi and Chuu were long gone, he packed up his things, discouraged. He still hadn't caught anything today. He began to slowly walk back to the village. His mind, however, was still on the fact that he had failed to catch anything for the third day in a row.

Hachi paused. He had somehow walked straight into a forest. The road that he had been on minutes ago seemed to have vanished. The octopus fishman cursed himself for not paying attention, and tried to make his way out.

He had no luck. Every tree, every bush, every rock all looked the same. If anything, he was only getting himself even more lost. By now, he was scared that he was going to be wandering this place forever until he died of hunger... or was eaten.

"HOOT!"

Naturally, in his current state of mind, the hooting of an owl was enough to send him running. This was one of the many times in which he forgot the great strength that being a fishman granted him; his frantically waving arms were knocking down small trees left and right.

At first, it seemed that blindly running would scarcely do any better, but just when he began to think about stopping, he suddenly found himself out of the forest and on the road again. Unfortunately, this road wasn't the one that lead back to the village; not even the lake was anywhere in sight.

Distraught, Hachi wandered the road for what seemed like hours, steadily becoming more and more tired. His stomach, upset at not having a scrap of food in it (and accustomed to meals twice the size of a normal fishman's), was growling rather loudly.

Just when he began to think that things couldn't get any worse, he heard the rumbling of thunder. Great. A thunderstorm on top of everything.

Lightning flashed in response, followed by more thunder.

Once more, Hachi began to sprint. He could already feel the first baby droplets of rain falling onto his forehead, which soon grew in both number and size. In virtually no time at all, the light shower had turned into a raging storm, relentlessly pelting him with wind and rain.

Another flash of lightning, then yet another peal of thunder. This was bad. Ever since he was little, Hachi had always been terrified of storms, especially the sound of thunder. The fact that one of his uncles had died after being struck by lightning only made his brontophobia worse.

By now, the rain was falling so thick that he could barely see a foot ahead of himself. It was a good thing, however, that he was a fishman, and accustomed to cold water, else he probably would be half frozen by the hundreds of raindrops pelting him every second.

He began to consider turning around and heading back into the forest when he saw a small cabin by the side of the road. Even better, the light of a fire was glowing from the windows. Blessing every god that he had ever heard of, Hachi redoubled his efforts and reached the door in no time at all.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Even though he was scared out of his mind, Hachi still believed in common courtesy. Such manners were not wasted, as the door creaked open in that instant.

Hachi's eyes bulged a bit in surprise. The owner of the humble-looking cabin was the village takoyaki salesman, Yatsu. At first glance, he appeared to be a scary-looking fishman, due to his left eye being covered by an eye patch (hints of a scar poked out of either end) and his extremely sharp teeth. And of course, there was the matter of him being a tiger shark fishman - one of the most dangerous predators in existence.

Most people in the village, including Hachi, however, knew that he was a gentle, friendly man, and especially popular with children. He knew the names and species of practically everybody.

"Hachi? What're you doing out at this hour?"

Quickly, Hachi began to explain how he had gotten lost. By the time he was finished, he was panting for breath. Yatsu looked as if he had only caught half of his words, but he nodded anyways and threw Hachi a towel. While Hachi dried off, he could hear plates clinking; probably Yatsu preparing dinner.

Hachi nearly fainted when he saw what was in the plate that Yatsu had set before him: takoyaki. Sure, Yatsu might sell takoyaki, but Hachi never thought that he would eat it at home, too!

Yatsu, catching the look on his face, chuckled. "Surprised, ain't ya? Truth is, I was gonna go grocery shopping today, but it seems that God don't want me to!"

Hachi swallowed. He didn't want to be rude to Yatsu, but neither did he want to be a cannibal. He sat there for a full five minutes, trying to decide between hunger (as well as politeness) and pride.

Hunger won out. _Just this one_, Hachi promised himself as he placed a still-warm takoyaki inside his mouth.

And before he could stop himself, he took the whole plate and dumped its contents down his gullet. They were delicious, every last one of them. Everything from the baked dough covering on the outside to the rich sauce to the pickled ginger were perfect.

He heard Yatsu chuckling from the other side of the table. "Good, aren't they?"

The next day, Yatsu lead him back to the village, to his parents' relief. After getting a severe scolding from both of them, Hachi wandered off to his favorite fishing spot again. Besides Kuroobi and Chuu, several more fishman children were there, from the overweight blowfish Toge to the sharp-tongued goblin shark Hana.

"Oi, Hachi!" Chuu waved at him. "You alright? We were just talking about what we want to do when we grew up!"

"I'm gonna be a warrior, protecting the village from humans!" boasted Kuroobi.

"I'm gonna be a carnival performer!" declared Chuu.

"What do you want to be?" asked Toge.

Hachi thought about it. "A takoyaki salesman."

The looks on his friends' faces were priceless. Ignoring Chuu's boasting about how he was right all along, Hachi set up his three rods and began to fish. As he did, he idly wondered how long before his parents would find out.

==End of Chapter 15==

Here, we have a piece focusing on just what made Hachi so obsessed with takoyaki in the first place (seeing as how takoyaki are dumplings made out of octopus meat). And I'm not just making it up either - his chapter title mini-arc shows that ever since he was a kid, his dream was to open a takoyaki stand alongside Kuroobi and Chuu.

The trope used here is a Dr. Seuss classic - Character B constantly pesters Character A to try something. Character A keeps refusing, but eventually gives in. As it turns out, they love whatever it is. The Trope Namer is, obviously, the book of the same name.

Also, _brontophobia_ is _not_ the fear of long-necked dinosaurs. Or Flintstones reruns. It's the fear of thunder.

As for the Japanese used in this story:

_Yatsu_ is another word for eight, just like _hachi_.

_Toge_ means "spike".

_Hana_ can mean both "nose" and "flower". (Pull up a picture of a goblin shark on Google and you'll know why I gave her that name)


	16. Not the Fall that Kills You

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 16==

The legendary Shichibukai Donquixote Doflamingo lazily sipped his wine as he gazed at the setting sun from one of the balconies of the World Government HQ. Normally, he would have blown the old coots heading the World Government off, like always (he was trying to beat Mihawk's record), but the imminence of a war between the World Government, the Shichibukai, and the Yonkou was too exciting to miss out on. There was also the fact that if he did not obey their summons, they probably would follow through on their threat to strip him of his rank, unlike the last hundred and one times.

And what could he say? The service was twice as extravagant than usual for a gathering of Shichibukai. Their latest addition, Marshall D. Teach (also known as Blackbeard), possessed an appetite that matched his own. The blond chuckled at the thought of the poor navy chore boys getting run ragged to supply the food for the five of them. Boa had declined for some mysterious reason, though Doflamingo did not find that surprising. Out of all the Shichibukai, she was trusted the least. And of course, there was the matter of Jimbei starting a riot and getting himself imprisoned in Impel Down.

It was then he noticed that he had drained his glass completely. He shook the bottle beside him and realized that it too, was empty. This would not do. Placing two fingers into his mouth, he gave a sharp, piercing whistle.

In an instant, a marine recruit with short red hair appeared before him in a cloud of dust. Doflamingo was inwardly impressed; perhaps he knew Soru? As a Shichibukai, however, he couldn't allow that to show, hence him giving a bark of "What took you so long?"

"Sorry!" the marine bowed.

"And don't kick up dust in front of me! Are you trying to suffocate me?"

The marine bowed even deeper.

Doflamingo waved his hand and held out the empty glass. "Whatever. Bring me a refill!"

"What kind, sir?"

"Hmm... surprise me."

The marine dashed back inside the building, kicking up another cloud of dust. Doflamingo scowled. He would have to teach that kid some manners...

Two minutes later, the marine was back and holding a bottle in his hand. It was a large bottle, seeing as how he needed both hands to carry it. With a grunt, Doflamingo held out his glass, waited for the marine to uncork the bottle, and watched the purple liquid cascade into the glass.

He took a sip...

... and spat it out.

"What the hell is this?" he roared, dashing the glass to the ground. "Everyone here knows that I'm allergic to grapes!"

The marine's terrified face only lightened his anger a tiny bit. "S-sorry, sir! I'm new here, so..."

"_That's no excuse_," Doflamingo hissed in his most dangerous voice. With an effort, he contorted the grimace on his face into the most insane-looking smile he could muster up. The effect was immediate; the marine was instantly on his hands and knees, pleading for forgiveness.

But he wasn't through yet.

"You know," Doflamingo stated in a whimsical voice, not at all like his previous sentence. "I've heard rumors about how the World Government is conducting experiments on marines... giving them super strength... allowing them to breathe underwater..."

He could see the marine's terror become mixed with confusion.

"Perhaps also allowing them to fly?"

With an insane laugh, he raised his hand. The marine's body sailed up into the air as well. With a few finger movements, Doflamingo flipped him upside-down and dangled him over the edge of the balcony. By now, the man was hysteric; his words were tumbling out so fast that Doflamingo barely caught half of them.

He clenched his fist tight, as if crushing a bug.

**"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH...!"**

The screams were like music to his ears, but Doflamingo wasn't really planning on killing the kid. He'd just let him fall a couple hundred feet and catch him by the ankle just before he hit the ground. Killing marines randomly didn't exactly sit well with the World Government; they might take away the bonbons at dinner again!

He peered over the balcony and saw that the soles of the man's boots were almost out of his line of sight now. Best do it now, he thought, lest the guy hit the ground. He held his hand over the railing of the balcony and swept it upwards, concentrating on the man's ankles.

"SNAP!"

Doflamingo winced. That... wasn't exactly what he had in mind. And of course, in his distraction, he heard the sound of something hitting the ground, faint, but definitely real.

Another distraction soon came in the form of the dinner bell. Putting the thought of the marine that he had just killed almost entirely out of his head, Doflamingo sprinted down the three flights of stairs leading to the fifth floor and burst into the dining hall. Teach was already there, ripping into a steak like an animal.

He was halfway through his third helping when Sengoku's stern voice tore through the room. "Alright, we found officer Marcus with his neck snapped in the western forest! Which one of you did it?"

Mihawk simply crossed his arms and closed his eyes, probably nodding off to sleep.

Teach barely looked up before continuing to stuff his face.

Moria rolled his eyes. "I sure didn't do it."

"Neither did I," stated Kuma simply.

Doflamingo whistled innocently.

==End of Chapter 16==

This trope is something that probably every superhero movie in existence is guilty of. Someone is plunging hundreds of feet towards pavement, but as long as they don't actually _hit_ said pavement, they'll be okay. Under Newtonian physics, this is absolute bull 95 percent of the time. Reaching out to grab a ledge would probably result in dislocating one's arm more than anything, never mind that getting caught out of mid-air by someone would shatter the body in one way or another due to a combination of gathered velocity and a sudden stop.

In other words, it's not the fall that kills you... it's the sudden stop at the end. (This saying is also the trope namer).

The marine's death scene draws inspiration from the old Spider-Man comics, in which Spidey attempts to catch Gwen Stacy with his webbing after the Green Goblin tosses her off a bridge, but the attempt winds up breaking her neck instead.

And yes, I've changed the genre of this story to General/Parody instead, because some of these stories can't exactly be called humorous.


	17. Funny Money

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 17==

"ATTACK!!!"

The sound of four cannons booming simultaneously signaled the beginning of another battle that they were sure to win, but they wouldn't need them. Stepping over the railing of his ship, the Shark Superb, these pirates' fearless captain plunged headfirst into the frigid sea. Leaping into the ocean, for most pirates, was not a good way to start off a naval battle, due to countless factors such as rough waves, sudden storms, and the appearance of sea kings. For Devil fruit users, that went double.

But the Arlong Pirates weren't most pirates.

The infamous criminal known as Arlong the Saw greedily took in a huge swallow of the seawater and allowed the rich oxygen to flow into his body. Most humans couldn't even handle the temperature in these seas, much less the pressure that the ocean generated at these depths. But for a fishman, diving this deep was a part of life. As he thought this, Arlong began to kick his feet, propelling himself faster and faster through the water, his hands pasted rigidly to his sides. His torpedo-like body, not too common in fishmen to begin with, helped him slice through the water like a knife through a freshly baked cake.

He was zooming faster and faster in a circular pattern, stirring up trails of bubbles and frightening away all other sea life within half a mile. But, he wasn't merely doing this for amusement. With every lap that he completed, he was slowly bringing his body closer and closer to the surface of the rough sea.

Finally, with a thunderous roar of "SHARK ON DARTS!!!" he exploded out of the sea like a living harpoon aiming for its human target. It was over in an instant; one second he was still underwater with a distorted view of his opponent, and the next his foot-long nose had pierced the man's heart. The opposing captain was dead before he hit the deck, his face showing the terror and pain that only a surprise attack by him could bring.

Arlong pulled his sharp snout out of the man's chest, shaking his head from side to side to remove the filthy human blood from it. No more than three or four feet from him, he heard a scream of death; Kuroobi had just plunged his cutlass into a man's side. Meanwhile, on his right, Kaneshiro slammed another man's head into the ship's deck, splintering the wood into pieces.

The battle was over in a matter of minutes; once again, their human opponents had been no match for the power of the fishmen. Arlong groaned in disgust when he saw the ship's flag: a harmless-looking white mushroom with red spots. Their opponents probably weren't pirates, but what did he care? That probably meant it was a cargo ship, and loaded with even _more_ loot!

He watched as several underlings made their way into the ship's hold to bring out whatever they held inside. Arlong himself never actually did any of the carrying; he always supervised, lest one of his crewmates drop something.

Ten minutes later, the hold had been cleared out, and the Arlong pirates were on their way. They, however, did feel that leaving an abandoned vessel at sea would be a cruel fate, so they did the most merciful thing that they could think of: blast it to the bottom of the sea with the cannons.

"Alright, let's see what we've got!" Arlong motioned for Hachi to break the first crate, imprinted with a question mark on all four sides. The octopus fishman complied, smashing all six of his fists into the box at the same time.

"... the hell?" Arlong muttered, echoed by several other fishmen as they surveyed the box's contents: mushrooms the size of a man's head. Hachi pulled one out for the rest of the crew to see better; the result was a simultaneous shudder. Markings on the mushroom's thick stalk made it look like a severed head.

Arlong kicked the crate aside and motioned for Hachi to open the next one.

The next crate turned out to be filled with odd orange-red flowers.

"What the hell are these people delivering?!" Arlong thundered.

The crate after that held wooden five-pointed stars, painted white with black eyes. The next crate was full of brown leaves (Kuroobi suggested that they could be tobacco, and therefore, worth something; Arlong kicked it aside anyways). The next crate was full of hammers. The subsequent three crates held what appeared to be frog costumes, stone tanuki statues, and enormous green boots, respectively.

Arlong thought that he would pop a vein had Hachi not directed his attention to the treasure chests that had also come from the ship. There were nine in all; not too large but not too small either. To Arlong's delight, each one of them held gold coins; one hundred in each to be exact. They gleamed gold and fat in the sunlight, making the tiny wooden flute that they had fished out of the last treasure chest look all the more insignificant.

The next morning, the Arlong Pirates stopped on an island for supplies and to have a bit of fun. Arlong himself and a few underlings sauntered into the bar, arrogant as ever.

"Yo, bartender!" Arlong shouted, tossing a gold coin towards the man, which bounced off his forehead. "How 'bout some drinks for me and my buddies?"

Grumbling, the man peeled the coin off his forehead and took a look at it. One second later, he burst out laughing.

Arlong frowned. "What's so funny?!"

"These - Ha - these coins - they were from the Masaruma Kingdom, were they not?"

"How should I know? I jacked them off some ship with some ugly-ass mushroom flag!"

The bartender laughed even harder. "These coins ain't even made out of real gold! Haven't you heard?! The Masaruma Kingdom's fallen on such hard times, it takes a hundred of these coins to equal a single beli!"

Arlong crushed his mug in his hands. He would deal with those Masamuras or whatever later. Right now, this guy needed to be taught a lesson. The bartender was still laughing hysterically, up until Arlong's webbed hand found its way around his neck.

_Crack!_

_Note to self_, Arlong thought. _Never trust money from someone who worships mushrooms._

==End of Chapter 17==

This can be considered the reverse of Worthless Yellow Rocks: something that's supposed to be valuable has fallen victim to inflation or whatever and it takes thousands, if not millions, of them to buy a single loaf of bread. Oftentimes, this something is a currency.

And the sad thing is, this actually happens in real life. For example, Germany after World War I.

And yes, I did slip in quite a few not-so-hidden references. If you stop and think about it for a minute or two, you'll realize that it does make sense, to a certain extent.


	18. Gossip Evolution

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 18==

Right now, revenge was the only thing on Rob Lucci's mind. For more than a decade, he had slaughtered countless people on command of the World Government, and for what? To be denounced by Spandam and hunted down by his very employers? From the day that he had met him, Lucci despised Spandam, but he loved his job more, so he grudgingly tolerated the man. Now, however, he was no longer in employment of the World Government, which meant that he could do whatever he wanted. Had it not been for his vague sense of morality holding him back, Lucci might have just slaughtered the whole village he was in right now for fun.

Despite not being agents of the World Government anymore, Lucci and his co-workers still despised pirates. For the time being, they were more than just getting by as bounty hunters, since no pirate could put up half the fight that the Straw Hat pirates did. Still, each and every one of them had his or her own interests. Even Lucci himself had grown a bit fond of bowling, not that he would ever admit it to himself.

"Help!"

Lucci paused. The voice was shrill and filled with panic. Probably some careless young woman. Honestly, he didn't even know why he bothered anymore.

"Quiet, ya broad!"

Lucci had become accustomed to those kinds of voices as well. Muscle-bound thugs who beat up anyone that displeased them and thought they had a God-given right to do whatever they wanted to women. More than likely to be pirates.

Well, he had nothing else to do; Kaku pretty much had repairs for the ship covered, Blueno was stocking up on supplies, and the rest of them were probably running around and amusing (or terrifying) the townsfolk. Smashing his foot against the ground ten rapid times in a single second, Lucci dashed into the alley that the scream had emerged from.

A single Shigan did the trick; his finger had pierced the man's temple before he could even turn around. As the muscle-bound brute fell to the ground, his hands slipping from the young woman's shoulders, Lucci rubbed his bloodstained index finger against the wall, paying only the slightest attention to the hysteric young woman in front of him.

"Wh-who are...?"

Another ten rapid kicks, and he was out of sight. Just because he still hated pirates didn't mean he was friends with the common person. He just didn't hope that the old man across the street would say anything.

XOXOXOXO

Unfortunately for Lucci, the old man was something of a gossip. As soon as he reached his favorite bar, he began rattling off the whole story to his drinking partners: "I saw a man dressed in all black terrorizing a young woman!"

Later that day, one of his drinking partners returned home to his wife and decided to share the story with her. "A guy dressed in black killed a young girl!"

His wife happened to be friends with the police chief's wife, whom she immediately called on her Den-Den Mushi. "A man dressed in black slaughtered a young couple!"

Unfortunately, the police chief was out on business that day. His wife, also something of a gossip, decided to share this information with the greengrocer. "A man dressed in black used his Devil fruit powers to kill a girl and her boyfriend before they even had a chance to turn around!"

And so, it went on throughout the day:

"A man dressed in black used his Devil fruit powers to rape a young girl and kill both her and her boyfriend!" the greengrocer said to the baker.

"Two people in black used Devil fruit powers slaughtered an entire family!" the baker said to the innkeeper.

"An entire gang dressed in black used Devil fruit powers to murder an entire family!" the innkeeper cried to the butcher.

"A crew of pirates dressed all in black used their Devil fruit powers to kill an entire family and their dog!" the butcher told one of his customers, who happened to be a schoolteacher.

"A crew of pirates in black arrived at the coast! They've killed an entire family and burned their house to the ground!" the schoolteacher said to the recently-returned police chief.

"WHAT?"

XOXOXOXO

"You guys sure we've got everything?" Lucci inquired. All of the former CP9 agents had gathered at the town square.

"I bought enough food to last us two months," Blueno stated.

"I managed to get the rudder fixed up," said Kaku.

"Yoyoi! Jyyyyyaaaaaaaaabura and I entertained townsfolk to eeeeeaaaaaaaaarrrrrrn extraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa money!" Kumadori exclaimed.

At this, a vein popped in Jyabura's forehead. "_You_ entertained them! _I _supervised!"

Kalifa adjusted her glasses. "It'll take two more days for the log pose to set."

Fukurou tugged at the zipper across his mouth to say something, but several screams caused the assassins to turn their attention to the angry mob standing barely ten feet away from them. The mob consisted of roughly thirty people, wielding torches, pitchforks, crossbows, spears, swords, flintlocks, daggers, bows and arrows, and peppermint humbugs.

The seven comrades briefly exchanged glances. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, leaving nothing behind but a gust of wind the sailed over the mob.

_I should've just killed that guy_, Lucci thought.

==End of Chapter 18==

This is a trope that has not only appeared in fiction a lot, but exists in real life not only as an unfortunate situation, but also as a game. You may know it as "Broken Telephone", "Chinese Whispers", or any other name, but the premise is the same: one person gossips to someone else, who proceeds to gossip to a third person, and so on and so forth, with each person adding his or her own bit to the tale. By the time the "last" person is reached, the original message is often almost as mangled as an anime dubbed by 4Kids.


	19. Cold Turkeys are Everywhere

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 19==

"Sorry!" Tashigi cried as she stumbled into someone. The young marine had, once again, been running without bothering to put her glasses on, and the collision had been the result. Hina had warned her that the higher-ups at Mariejois did not take such accidents lightly, but the fact that Smoker had all but ignored her warnings had admittedly dulled her cautions a bit. She put her glasses back on to get a better look at who she had bumped into.

She was horrified when she saw who it was: a thick-set man with graying hair and a wrinkled face - the legendary Vice-Admiral Garp himself! Quickly distancing herself several feet from the man, Tashigi began rapidly bowing and apologizing over and over.

When she steeled herself to look up, Garp did not seem to be angry at all. Instead, he placed his hands on his hips, thrust out his chest, and began to laugh heartily. "Well, if it isn't the crazy sword girl that's always hanging around with ol' smokestack!"

Had someone else said this, Tashigi would have been offended, but the fact that such a powerful marine knew about a nobody like her quickly filled her with awe instead. "Y-you know about me?"

"Who doesn't?" Garp boomed. "Every marine 'round here from the chore boys to the top brass has been talking about the kid that's been hanging 'round ol' smokestack! 'Course, half of 'em don't seem to realize that you're a girl..."

In spite of herself, Tashigi found herself getting uncomfortable. Ever since she was little she had wanted to be a boy, but for whatever reason, God had decided to make her a girl. Despite her best efforts to not look overly feminine, more than one person had denounced her swordsmanship simply because of her gender.

"... but the half that do seem to have the hots for ya!" Garp continued, oblivious. "Come to think of it, ever think 'bout finding yerself a husband? I've got at least five guys in my division that talk 'bout you day and night!"

Tashigi shook her head. "My swords are all that I need."

Garp stared at her ruefully. "Pity. I've heard rumors 'bout how you're cooped up in your room day and night, staring at twenty-odd blades for hours on end. 'side from gettin' a bite to eat and sparring, you're hardly ever outside!"

"I need nothing else," Tashigi repeated. "A marine's job is to protect those who can't protect themselves. I've got to hone my skills to their fullest if I'm going to be able to hold my own against Whitebeard's invasion!"

"That don't mean that marines can't have a bit of fun every now and then! Tell you what - try not to touch a single blade for an entire day, and I'll give you a little present..."

Tashigi narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "What kind of present?"

Garp casually waved a massive hand. "You'll see... unless you're scared?"

Tashigi instantly flared up at an accusation of cowardice. "I'll do it!" As if intent to prove this, the young swordswoman removed her own sword, Shigure, from her waist and handed it to Garp. "Take care of this for me, okay?"

As soon as Tashigi was out of sight, Garp heard a mumble behind him sounding something along the lines of "Why doesn't he ever encourage us to have fun?"

The vice-admiral whipped around so quickly that he heard a few bones in his neck crack. "What was that?! So, you want to have fun, eh?!"

Helmeppo paled, regretting ever opening his mouth.

----

Tashigi walked through one of the few dirt roads of Mariejois, hands in her pockets. Aside from the palace where the Five Elder Stars met and the Tenryubitos' living quarters, Mariejois mainly consisted of a massive city comparable to the likes of Alubarna. Only the uppermost members of society were permitted to live here, such as important government figure and powerful marines. Naturally, everything was ten times as expensive as anywhere else on the Grand Line. The swordswoman inwardly snickered as she remembered the time that Smoker had stormed out of one of the city's many restaurants when he realized that the soup costed a month's salary.

However, Tashigi had never particularly liked visiting large cities, and especially not ones where everybody and their dog scrutinized you like an idiotic peasant girl. Thus, she had decided to take a walk on the massive pond-dotted meadows that lied right next to the city - she had found that the sounds of the wilderness soothed her, though that may have been because she was so used to cities.

The sound of two bamboo blades whacking against each other snapped her out of her thoughts. Turning her head, she saw two young marines clumsily training with said blades, obviously not skilled enough to use real swords. Tashigi resisted the urge to snatch up one of the fake swords and demonstrate how to use a sword correctly. Turning around so that he back was to them, she grit her teeth and walked on.

Next, she came upon a marine, obviously of higher rank (due to the cape-like coat he was wearing), showing off something to a comrade, who was apparently of equal rank. "Look what I got yesterday! Snatched it off a pirate - pretty, no?"

Tashigi's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The man had in his hands one of the legendary O Wazamono - Hebikiba. Out of all the O Wazamono, only Roronoa's blade had interested her more - she immediately recognized the blade by its distinctive scale-patterned sheath.

"It's gonna look pretty good on my wall!"

Tashigi slapped her forehead, grit her teeth again, and kept on walking. The marine with the valuable blade looked at her, confused.

"... what's with her?"

Wandering around in such an enormous expanse of land made Tashigi lose track of time; by the time she bothered to look at her watch, she realized that it was six o' clock already, and that dinner would be served soon. The young marine turned back the way she came, intending to break into a run if necessary, when she was startled by the sound of someone behind her clearing his throat.

"Um, excuse me..."

Tashigi turned around, impatient. Standing before her was a young marine, probably three or four years younger than her, with a mop of fiery red hair and freckles all over his face. "Yes?"

The boy tilted his head and stared at the ground, uncomfortably shuffling his feet. It was then that Tashigi noticed he was holding something behind him... something long and thin...

"I-I-I just w-want you t-to have..." the marine stuttered, a blush appearing on his cheeks. With two shaky hands, he brought out the katana that he was holding, but by the time he screwed up the courage to open his eyes, Tashigi was already dashing away at top speed as if he had some contagious disease.

----

By next morning, Tashigi was fuming. Everywhere along the way, swords kept popping up. A seedy-looking marine had been hawking several beautiful-looking katana, a noblewoman had been using a famous-looking sword to play fetch with her dog, and perhaps worst of all, a young black-haired marine had suddenly popped up and demanded to spar with her, and wouldn't take no for an answer. When she pointed out her lack of a sword, the marine offered to give her one. By the time she had finally managed to convince him otherwise, she was pretty sure that he had walked away with the mindset that women were too scared to fight men. It was enough to actually make her sick of swords.

With nothing else to do, the young marine simply wandered around Mariejois like she did the previous day, hoping to bump into Garp. She was not disappointed; it only took ten minutes.

"Well, if it ain't my favorite sword-otaku!" Garp boomed. "I wouldn't have believed it of ya, but I guess that ol' smokestack does run a pretty tight ship!"

Tashigi frowned. "Wait, how do you know I kept to the restriction?"

Garp suddenly became very awkward-looking. "Er... I have my sources. Now, about your reward..."

Tashigi froze. She had forgotten entirely about the reward; her main purpose for engaging in the bet was to prove her restraint - a vital characteristic of a marine.

"Here ya go!" Garp chirped happily as he held out a small booklet on swords. Tashigi took off her glasses and peered at the booklet, taking several seconds before noticing that it happened to be the exact same one that she carried around with her all the time. "I know how much you like swords, so I got it just for-

WHUMP.

"Hey, kid? Kid?!" Garp frantically yelled. "Come on now! This ain't no time for a nap! Wake up, dammit! For God's sake, why does this always happen to me?!"

==End of Chapter 19==

Ever tried to break a habit, like smoking or biting your nails? If you balked at how hard it was, be glad you don't live in the land of fiction, where as soon as you resolve to give up something, the entire world conspires to tempt you into back into it!

On a slightly related note, "cold turkey" is slang for giving up a habit all at once, rather than gradually. It rarely works out well.

Well, this may have been the longest one-shot I've written yet. I've started to go bankrupt for what trope I should write about next, so suggestions would be nice!

Oh, and _Hebikiba_ means "snake fang".


	20. Flowers for Algernon

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 20==

"Ero-Salom, you idiot!"

"Shut up and keep running!"

Moria peeled open a single eye and found his two cohorts - a pink-haired teenage girl in clothes way too frilly for any sane person, and a tall man with long blonde hair - running towards him at top speed. He had been, as usual, taking a nap, but a combination of nightmares about his nakama's demise and their screaming had dashed all hopes of getting some shut-eye for the moment. The enormous Shichibukai didn't even bother heaving himself off of his chair; he knew what kind of situation the two were in.

He heard the two come to a skidding halt mere feet away from his... er... humble ship to catch their breath. Behind them, he heard the stampeding of thirty odd-people, probably heavily armed. Giving an enormous yawn, Moria finally sat up, peeled both of his eyes open entirely, and faced the situation at hand.

As he had expected, the crowd consisted mostly of young women, though there were a few burly men here and there for good measure. He did have to admit, though - out of all the angry crowds that Absalom had attracted, this one was the most heavily armed.

Lazy as he was, Moria still had a flair for the theatrical. Heaving himself off his chair at last, the enormous man took a deep breath and bellowed his laugh into the sky.

"KISHISHISHISHISHI! Who dares to attack the lieutenants of Gecko Moria?!"

"Oh my God!"

"It's him - a Shichibukai, here!"

"Aw, come on! He don't look so tough! We can take him!"

"Idiot! Don't you know that he can rip our souls out with a single glance?!"

Moria, already growing bored of these pesky villagers, decided to end the show early. Crouching down as far as he could (which wasn't saying much), the scarred man suddenly sprang a good thirty feet into the sky before coming down onto the ground with a thundering CRASH. The hapless villagers were scattered every which way.

Absalom laughed. "That'll teach you to mess with the great Absalom!"

Moria threw him a sharp look, which instantly silenced him. "This is the sixth time this month that your peeping has gotten an angry mob to come after us! I'm getting tired of having to save your asses all the time, and you're cutting into my sleep schedule, to boot!"

"Yeah!" Perona chimed in. "Can't you do something to keep those hormones of yours under control?!"

Absalom shrugged. "I can't help it! Such a handsome man shouldn't let his looks go to waste! Those ladies just needed a bit of... persuasion..."

Perona's annoyed look suddenly turned into a wicked grin. "If you can't control yourself... I certainly can." With that, the pink-haired girl reached into her pocket and took out a small pale blue pill. Absalom, obviously getting nervous now, began backing away.

"Hey, now! What're you...?"

Before he could say another word, Perona suddenly lunged forward and shoved the pill down his throat. The blond man choked and gagged, obviously finding it hard to swallow without any water, but he eventually managed to get it down.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" Absalom bellowed. Perona grinned.

"Just a pill that I picked up from the local witch doctor. It's supposed to neutralize male attractions to females!"

At this point, Moria stopped listening and tried to go back to his nap. While he was slightly interested in the pill that Perona had claimed would make Absalom stop peeping, he couldn't really say that he gave two damns either way.

==The next afternoon...==

Ah, what a perfect day for napping, Moria thought. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything. The sea was gently rocking the boat, but not too much to make him seasick. The birds were chirping, but none too loudly... and his lawn chair was feeling more comfy than ever.

"RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!"

"YA THINK?!"

Why did he even bother?

He sighed as Absalom and Perona ran towards him as fast as their legs would carry them. Evidently, the pill had failed to work. He vaguely noticed that the looks of terror on their faces were much more pronounced, but that didn't seem too important... Wait, the crowd wasn't this big yesterday...

Indeed, the mob was more than double the size of the one that he had faced yesterday. In addition, while the mob from yesterday consisted mostly of young women, this one seemed to be made up of entirely young men - tall and short, dark-haired and blonde, muscular and lanky. Some of them were hefting weapons, while others, who probably didn't need them, were barehanded.

"For God's sake, Absalom," Moria said, eyes bulging slightly. "What the hell did you do?!"

It was Perona who answered. "He... was... peeping (pant) again! Only (pant) this time... on men!"

Moria did a double-take at this piece of information. "SAY WHAT?!"

It was at this moment that Absalom jumped onto Moria, latching onto the larger man's neck/head with his long arms. "Help me, Moria-sama!"

"Get - off - me!" screamed Moria, prying off the blond man with some effort. Like most men, he found it a bit creepy to be hugged by another man.

BLAM!

All three were frozen in shock as a bullet whizzed past their head and buried itself into the wall of the captain's quarters. The sound of more than a dozen of them being loaded simultaneously wasn't music to the ears, either. Moria groaned. He probably could take these guys in a serious fight, but the effort really wasn't worth it, not to mention that he'd probably get more than a few wounds. Thus, he turned to plan B.

"Go below deck! We're getting the hell outta here!"

Even as he said this, several more bullets grazed the ship. Fortunately, flintlocks were known for their terrible accuracy, so none of them had been hit - yet. Moria ran into the helmsman's cabin and roared at Perona and Absalom to unfurl the sails and prepare the ship for an earlier-than-scheduled voyage.

Several minutes later, all three of them breathed a sigh of relief as the small ship moved out to sea. There was still, however, business to be taken care of. Thus, Moria turned his stitched head towards Perona and said to her, "Please tell me that you bought an antidote, too."

Perona reached into her pocket and took out a bright red pill. "Whoops... forgot that I had this the entire time... heh, heh..."

Moria resisted the urge to slap the teenager upside the head. "Just give it to him," the Shichibukai said in the most restrained voice he could muster. Quick as a cobra, Perona's arm thrust out and shoved the pill down Absalom's mouth. Like yesterday, the blond man choked and gagged, but managed to get it down.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Absalom said, "Hey, why are we leaving?! I haven't gotten close to enough of the local girls yet!"

Moria breathed a sigh of relief.

==End of Chapter 20==

Fairly basic plot: a character either gains some kind of enhanced ability or loses a handicap, but soon enough, finds that God has decided to make his life hell for daring to betray the status quo. By the end of the story, you can bet that they'll have their old disability/normalcy back.

Trope Namer: The novel/short story of the same name.

And for those of you continuity freaks out there: this story takes place after Moria has met Perona and Absalom, but before they met Hogback. Thus, Absalom doesn't have his animal transplants yet. Also, neither of them have gotten their Devil fruit powers.

Sorry for the long wait. I've been working on the twelfth chapter of "Hail to the End of 4Kids" for quite a bit.


	21. Jackass Genie

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 21==

"God, where are all these bounty hunters coming from?!"

"I swear, you kill one, and another ten pop up to take their place!"

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Bentham did a back flip to avoid the barrage of shots that the pirates had sent his way. Fortunately for him, they were using the old-fashioned types of flintlocks, which could only hold a single bullet at a time and needed to be loaded with gunpowder before every shot.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The bounty hunter used his long, muscular legs to kick over the table that he was hiding underneath, blocking the oncoming tide of bullets and at the same time providing the distraction that he needed. The gamble paid off; his targets were so completely disoriented by the table crashing into them that they never stood a chance.

POW! WHAM! CRACK!

Bentham dusted his hands. A simple chop, punch, and kick, and they had went down like sacks of potatoes. He looked around the deck of the ship, littered with bodies, broken swords, and discarded guns. He had not been the only bounty hunter that chose to attack this ship today, but he was the only one who had made it out alive. Still, the foolhardy hunters served their own purpose: he had written up a fairly complex plan to take down the crew (around twenty people), but once they had shown up, he decided to ditch the entire plan and jump into the fray. By the time that every other hunter was dead, only those three pirates were left standing.

He pulled several yellowed wanted posters out of his coat to check the bounties on his newest targets. The captain was worth about twenty million, and his first mate about ten. The rest of the crew, however, was obviously deemed too weak to even have their own bounties.

Before he turned these lowlifes in, however, a quick peek into their storage would do some good... after all, what the marines didn't know he took wouldn't hurt them, or him, for that matter. The tall bounty hunter wandered around the ship, looking for such a room.

Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he found it... and was massively disappointed. There was only one measly chest in the entire room, surrounded by a haphazard collection of small jewels and coins. All in all, Bentham wouldn't have expected it to exceed a million beli.

He opened the chest and was greeted with the sight of nothing but an (admittedly colorful) bottle. It was lying horizontally, probably because it would have been too tall to fit in the chest if it were stood upright. Perhaps it was filled with rare spices or oils or perfumes or something, Bentham thought idly. Or maybe it was the captain's special supply of wine?

Better than nothing, he thought glumly as he slipped both hands beneath the bottle to lift it out.

CRACK!

The sound so surprised the bounty hunter that he dropped the bottle, which fell with a clatter but did not break, instead rolling a distance away. From its crown-like nozzle, it was spouting a thick blue smoke.

"AHA! I AM FINALLY FREE!!!" a booming voice thundered. Bentham would have fainted on the spot had he not been familiar with the fairy tales concerning genies. Still, the bounty hunter approached cautiously towards the enormous, muscular man that he had just release. The man's skin was blue as the summer sky, and instead of legs, his body below his golden sash ended in long wisps of blue smoke. Upon his back, he wore a long red mantle with a gold trim - something that Bentham was sure that kings could scarcely afford.

The genie looked around for a while before pointing a finger directly at Bentham. "YOU! AS YOU ARE THE HUMAN FOOL- ER, _GENEROUS_ ENOUGH TO FREE ME, YOU MAY HAVE ONE WISH!"

Bentham was a bit confused. One? Most of the stories he had read had stipulated three wishes. On the other hand, he did not wish to anger the genie and possibly stir up a fight. In his present state, he was a bit tired, and the massive saber that the genie was hefting over his shoulder with one hand did not look too inviting, either.

Still, he would have to word his wish carefully. Genies had a tendency to be evil at heart, or simply be too powerful to care about measly humans. Even if they were neither of these, they still tended to be a bit too literal-minded for comfort. Wishing for money certainly would not do; there were about a million and one ways that sort of wish could be corrupted. Wishing for power tended to end up even worse.

Bringing somebody back from the dead? He had no one that he was particularly close to that was living, let alone dead.

Eternal youth and/or immortality? That always came with a drawback, typically in the form of being forced to take the genie's place.

"COME ON NOW!" the genie roared impatiently. "I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY!"

What did he want? What did he need? Was this all a dream? Would he wake up at any minute and go back to getting dirty looks thrown at him and hunting down pirates day after day? Would he be forever looking over his shoulder, never knowing love? Or happiness?

And in that instant, he knew what to wish for.

"I... I wish to know true happiness!"

"HUH! HAVEN'T SEEN ONE OF THOSE WISHES IN A WHILE..." the genie mused. "CONSIDER IT DONE!" he said a moment later, snapping his fingers.

In an instant, Bentham felt his entire body heat up with the fury of a hundred and one suns. The bounty hunter groaned and fell to his knees, praying that this was not what the genie considered to be "true happiness". It seemed to go on for hours before finally subsiding.

Luckily, there was a mirror in the room. Bentham ran to it immediately.

Two seconds later, the room held nothing but a broken mirror.

Bentham ran onto the deck of the ship, screaming a string of incoherent curses as the genie flew into the sky. If there was one thing he knew now, it was that he did NOT look good in makeup.

"OH, DON'T BE SO PICKY, HUMAN! WHAT EASIER PATH TO HAPPINESS IS THERE BESIDES EXPERIENCING LIFE AS BOTH A MAN AND A WOMAN?" the genie shouted back before laughing and disappearing into the clouds.

Bentham groaned. His clothes had been transformed into a frilly pink coat, striped blue ball-shaped skirt, and matching dress shirt. His face was now accentuated with makeup, mascara, and blush that would probably have looked ten times better on a woman.

And suddenly, he felt an urge to dance.

==End of Chapter 21==

No, this one-shot does not star an OC. Can you guess who the main character is?

Anyways... the trope seen here is associated with roughly ninety percent of genies in fiction, who seem to always be looking for a way to screw up wishes as much as they can.

On a vaguely related note, genies were originally portrayed as living in ornate bottles, not oil lamps. They were also much more "mundane", so to speak. They could be controlled by sorcerers and such (who were probably the ones that trapped them inside bottles/lamps in the first place), and the wish thing was originally out of gratitude. Particularly evil genies might just kill whoever releases them.


	22. Killer Rabbit

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 22==

"Alright, meeting dismissed!"

Kuma almost sweatdropped. Doflamingo was out the door before Sengoku was halfway through his sentence. The always-stoic swordsmaster Mihawk followed suit, though in a much more dignified way. All but one of the remaining marines left as well.

That left Kuma alone with said marine (one of the ones that Doflamingo was controlling, if Kuma wasn't mistaken) and Sengoku, the bearded, bespectacled commander of the entire navy. Even if Sengoku refused to share anything beside the bare necessities with the Shichibukai (the man was a stauch upholder of "Absolute Justice" and did not trust any pirates, even former ones), Kuma could tell what he was thinking. The meeting had certainly not been boring, what with Mihawk suddenly deciding to attend and the former West Blue policeman Lafitte somehow infiltrating and offering Sengoku a replacement for Crocodile.

Right now, Kuma knew that Sengoku had reached a particularly difficult crossroad. The Golden Age of Piracy seemed to be at its peak now, what with the rookie pirate known as Monkey D. Luffy not only defeating the legendary Sir Crocodile, but exposing him as a treacherous criminal as well. Faced with such facts, the World Government had no choice but to revoke Crocodile of his title and toss the man into prison. Unfortunately, this action left a massive hole in the Shichibukai, and that was not something to be taken lightly. Word of this would have undoubtedly spread all over the seas by now, and Kuma would have been surprised if the Yonkou did not decide to capitalize on such a shift in the world's "three powers".

Sengoku sighed, causing the stuffed seagull on his hat to tremble. He was obviously pondering whether to listen to Laffite. The former policeman could not really be called a criminal, but he seemed untrustworthy nonetheless. On the other hand, it was imperative that the hole be filled as quickly as possible, and besides this "Teach" person Lafitte mentioned, the World Government had largely drawn a blank on possible candidates.

The Fleet Admiral suddenly stood up, startling the Pacifista (though he didn't show it).

"God, I need some coffee," he groaned, holding his forehead. "Look after him, alright?" Sengoku said, gesturing towards his pet goat.

Kuma stoically nodded. He was not the particularly chatty type, speaking only when absolutely necessary. Sengoku nodded back and walked out the door as well.

"Baa!"

"Hey, get off of those!"

Kuma turned his head a fraction of a degree and saw the remaining marine wrestling with the goat over what looked like several documents. "Let go of those, ya stupid goat!" the marine yelled. "They're not goat kibble!"

"Baa!" countered the goat as he pulled on the documents even harder. The marine unsheathed his sword with his free hand and began to jab its handle into the goat's eye in an effort to make it let go.

"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

The marine jumped back, visibly startled by the vaguely demonic sound that left the goat's throat. Kuma sighed and flipped open his bible. Only God would be able to save the poor, foolish marine now, and even that wasn't a guarantee.

Five minutes later, the door opened, and Sengoku came back, a cup of coffee in hand. The Fleet Admiral, his eyes closed, sipped the bitter-sweet beverage. Then he opened his eyes.

CRASH!

"Kuma! I thought I told you to keep an eye on the goat!" Sengoku shrieked, ignoring the fact that he had just dropped an expensive-looking china cup.

Kuma looked over at what was left of the marine: several bones, a bloodstained coat, a broken sword, and a cap that lied (rather humorously) on the goat's head. The goat was innocently chewing on the documents, his eyes now no longer hellfire red.

"I did," the massive Shichibukai shrugged. "You didn't say anything about the marine."

Sengoku groaned and leaned against the wall.

==End of Chapter 22==

Yeah. I'm trying to kill some time around here, since I'm waiting for the next couple of One Piece chapters to come out before I start working on the second chapter of "Laught It Up". The result was this early update.

Seems a bit short compared to the other chapters, doesn't it? I tried to write a chapter that wouldn't exceed a thousand words, and finally succeeded.

Anyone who's familiar with _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ (the trope namer) should know this one. An innocent-looking, adorable animal suddenly shows the audience yet again why judging a book by its cover is not a good idea by tearing a new one for anyone foolish enough to try and pet it.


	23. Death Takes A Holiday

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 23==

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO BRING EXTRA HAKI RESTRAINTS!"

"I-I did, sir!"

"Don't tell me you bought the cheap brand again!"

SMASH!

Whitebeard scowled as the pathetic creatures who called themselves "Shinigami" (who weren't scythe-swinging skeletons after all, but normal-looking men and women of all ages dressed in robes of either ebony black or snow white) scattered about the supposed "Underworld", desperately trying to fight him, or at least flee from all the chaos. The massive pirate wasn't sure how they managed to haul him down here (although he did suppose that they could probably be called "gods" just for accomplishing that), but they were certainly insane if they thought that they could actually hold him.

He didn't have his bisento with him, but he hardly needed it to deal with these fleas. Admittedly, it had actually taken a tiny bit of effort for him to break out of the chair that they had chained him to while they "declared his sentence". He was Whitebeard, the most powerful man on the planet; he would die when he felt like it, and not one minute sooner, dammit!

STOMP!

The enormous pirate slammed a foot the size of a lifeboat onto the ground, releasing a burst of Haki along with it. The shinigami that weren't tossed into the air or knocked outright unconscious by the force of his stomp were certainly no match for even a small amount of Haki that came from the man.

It was then he saw the "judge" who apparently ruled over the entire place chanting something and holding out his hands as if preparing for an attack. The judge looked like the stereotypical death god - a skeleton draped in a long, flowing black cloak. The only things distinctive about him were his size (he stood as tall as Whitebeard himself) and the fact that his hollow eye sockets, instead of being pitch-black, were instead glowing with an eerie blue fire.

"_Per tredecim vita quod nex filiolus, ego reprobo -_ ACK!"

If he was about ten years younger, Whitebeard thought idly as his massive hand closed around the skeletal judge's neck, he might have been amused. As a veteran fighter of the Grand Line, however, he found that these kinds of things wore off on charm after a while.

"Take. Me. Back."

"You old fool! I rule over this entire realm! If I so decree, you cannot..."

Whitebeard's scowl grew wider. Clearly, this fool wasn't worth his time. With a scoff, the enormous man tossed his opponent over his shoulder as easily as if he were a ragdoll and began to inspect the podium that he had been standing at mere moments ago, while he was still tied down. The top of the podium had a series of intricate-looking runes carved into its wooden surface, which Whitebeard realized was the same type of writing that the denizens of the Void Century used - the carvings that could be found on poneglyphs.

The enormous man felt like cursing. He remembered the rumors about how Roger knew how to read these, but he certainly didn't, and unless the infamous "Devil Child" Nico Robin had somehow died today as well, he'd have to wing it.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE!" the skeleton judge bellowed to his underlings.

Not waiting to see what other cheap magic tricks these so-called "shinigami" could conjure up, Whitebeard gingerly pressed an index finger the size of a hot dog onto the podium's surface. That was to say that the poor thing just got smashed by a ten-ton weight, as the wood cracked and buckled under his strength.

"YOU IDIOT!" the skeletal judge yelled in horror. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"I'll do worse if you don't bring me back RIGHT NOW," Whitebeard threatened, the gaze in his eyes furious.

For a moment or two, the skeletal judge looked like he was about to refuse and insult him again, but finally, he sighed in a weary voice, "All right, all right. You got lucky this time."

Whitebeard didn't exactly know what he was expecting, but he expected more than what he got; one minute he was holding the skeletal judge up by the throat, and the next, he was suddenly back on his enormous seat aboard the _Moby Dick_. How anticlimactic.

"Captain!"

Whitebeard looked to see that it was Marco, his first division commander, who had called him. Odd, he thought. Marco was usually the most cool and composed of his crewmates, seeing as he was the oldest one of them who was still alive.

"What is it?"

Marco showed him what was in his hands: the body of a decapitated marine. Whitebeard sniffed; had it been anyone else who presented him with something so crude, he would have probably thrown them overboard on the spot. This thought, however, was interrupted by a rather disturbing realization: the marine's arms and legs were still moving.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"It's no joke, sir!" Marco said. "I don't think it's a Devil fruit power, either! The guy's head flew off, but he just kept on screaming!"

Whitebeard knitted his brows together; there went the thought of that little sojourn being a dream.

"Captain!"

Now things were getting interesting; Jozu, his third division commander, was also here. "We've just killed a sea king, but it's still writhing and everything! It won't shut up! No one will go near it!"

Whitebeard felt like clapping his palm to his forehead, but that would probably loosen the lid on some volcano somewhere. Even a thick-skulled idiot would be able to figure out that since his rampage put several dozen shinigami out of comission, the entire process of dying had become botched.

"Happy now?" a rasping voice hissed into the enormous pirate's ear. Whitebeard didn't need to turn around to know that it was the skeletal judge.

"Just tell me what I can do to fix it," he said as quietly as he could. "I can't have my men starving to death because they're too sissy to eat something still living."

"I don't even know how long some of them will be out for! We need a substitute!"

"Then you've come to the wrong place to find one. But, if I may make a suggestion..."

XOXOXOXO

"So, uh... this job _does _come with booze, right?"

"Yes. Yes it does. Several varieties, in fact. Guaranteed to have never been tasted by the living!"

"Okay. And you promise that it won't take up all of my time, right?"

"Uh... yep!"

"It's a deal!" the red-haired pirate exclaimed, holding out a hand to shake. Judge Jack sighed. On the upside, this man's aura was comparable to that of Whitebeard's, so he'd probably be useful in hauling in brats like that monkey with the straw hat. On the downside...

"Guess what, boys! I've just been made into an honorary shinigami!" Shanks exclaimed. "Wait 'til Mihawk gets a load of this!"

Judge Jack sighed. It was better than nothing.

==End of Chapter 23==

As you can probably guess by the title, this trope is all about Death (or some variant thereof) becoming unable to do his/her/its/their jobs. As a result, people stop dying. At first, this may sound like fun, but as this chapter demonstrates... sometimes, dead is better.

Judge Jack's chant is in Latin. I used an online translator for it, so the grammar may be a bit off. Roughly, it _should_ say "By the thirteen spirits of death, I condemn-".

Why Shanks as a substitute shinigami? It was originally supposed to be Mihawk, but then I realized that Shanks' personality would probably make him more fun to watch as a shinigami.


	24. A Team Firing

I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

In dedication to the late Michael Jackson. RIP (even though this story has nothing to do with him).

==Chapter 24==

"Give it up."

"When hens start giving milk, I will!"

Smoker scowled deeply. The man that he was facing, the serial arsonist "Matchstick" Marion, had already killed eight people in the past month. Technically, criminals like these were supposed to be handled by the police, since marines like him primarily dealt with pirates. Still, either by luck or incompetence on the police's part, Marion had slipped away from them three times already. Just yesterday, Headquarters had given him not just permission, but an order to hunt the lunatic down, complete with a new platoon of marines to help him.

From what little information Smoker had been able to gather about them, they were a particularly trigger-happy bunch; not a swordsman to be seen. Their rifles were supposedly top-of-the-line equipment, capable of sniping a rooster's wattle from fifty yards away. Tashigi had told him earlier about rumors that they could unload dozens of rounds in mere minutes, and fill an entire barn full of holes in no time at all.

It was honestly unbelievable that barely a day after he had gotten his new subordinates, they would find Marion inside a bar, chatting away as if he wasn't one of the most wanted men in the area. And it wasn't just any bar, either - it was the legendary Gold Roger Bar, the last place that Roger had visited in the East Blue before he set out to conquer the Grand Line. Ever since Roger's execution, practically the only people who went to the bar anymore were marines.

Marion gave an unpleasant smile at the marine commander; he was an abnormally thin man, to the point where Smoker privately wondered if it was his physique rather than his doings that gave him his nickname. Beside him, Smoker heard the leader of his new subordinates, a burly man by the name of Frank, readying his rifle.

"Well, are you going to come quietly?" Smoker stated in a calm tone. "Or would you like it if we pumped you full of lead instead?"

"Go to hell."

Well, that was that, Smoker thought as he gave the hand signal for his new troops to turn the man into swiss cheese. Ah, the sound of a dozen rifles cocking.

FWIP!

Smoker had but a second to register that Marion did next before the bullets began flying.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Despite the massive amounts of noise now threatening to make him deaf for life, Smoker could still contemplate what had just happened: Marion had backflipped behind the counter, and, in the same instant, drawn out his own pair of guns (which he was now blasting away at them with).

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Bottles were shattering...

BLAM! BLAM!

The bartender was nowhere in sight...

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Windows were falling apart like houses of cards...

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Alcohols of every brand and stock were flowing freely over the tables and chairs...

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

And the clouds of gunpowder in the air were turning his eyes into waterfalls...

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

It seemed to go on for hours...

BLAM! BLAM! CLICK!

Smoker blinked (or tried to, given that his eyes were now drier than a desert). What was that?

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

It was as if the last ten minutes or so were all a dream, and the clicks were an alarm clock. Snapped out of his stupor at last, Smoker looked behind him and realized what he should have realized right off the bat: his men were out of ammunition.

CLICK! CLICK!

Smoker turned around. And by the looks of it, they weren't the only ones whose guns were now useless.

"Uh... any chance of a time-out for reloads?" Marion chuckled nervously.

Smoker could have died of shame then and there. His men had just unloaded hundreds of bullets into the bar, and hit nothing. Actually, scratch that. They hit everything _besides_ who they were supposed to be hitting. The marine commander clapped a hand to his forehead.

_Note to self: train these idiots in how to hit a human-sized target when we get back._

And then, he noticed the bartender, sprawled on the ground in a pool of his own blood, dozens of holes bored into his flesh. It was a miracle that his body was still in one piece.

"Ugh... is it over?" he croaked.

Honest to God, Smoker couldn't tell by now if he should have been relieved, furious, horrified, or just plain embarrassed.

Which was why he settled for walking up to Marion and spending a full minute pounding the guy's face into hamburger meat.

==End of Chapter 24==

This is something that almost any action movie, from the oldest Westerns all the way up to the likes of _Tropic Thunder _is guilty of. Basically, the good guys and/or the bad guys start blasting away at each other with every firearm known to man for several minutes or even hours, but fail to hit anything living. The only "casualties" turn out to be tables, cars, windows, etc.

This effect can also be achieved with only one or two characters, if armed with ludicrous amounts of firepower.

Troper Namer(s): The A-Team, of course.


	25. Easy Amnesia

Disclaimer: I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 25==

He had finally done it. At the tender age of eighteen, Juraquille Mihawk had finally earned the title of the world's greatest swordsman. It hadn't been easy, but, hey, when you got it in your head to devote your whole life to challenging Seidou Rackham, a subordinate of Gold Roger himself, did you really _expect_ the finale to be a cakewalk?

After the battle, his body had been left in such bad condition that it was only through the most cutting-edge medical technology at the time (and months of bed rest) that he had managed to live at all. Apparently, Seidou was not at all a sore loser, and had asked the crew of the Jolly Roger Pirates to heal both of them after the battle. The pain that Mihawk was feeling all over his body by the end of the match (before he passed out) was nothing compared to the pain of having won, but still owing his life to his opponent.

Seidou, watching the young swordsman get up from his bed, grinned. "Leaving us so soon?"

Mihawk did not care to grace the taunt with a response, but grinned in turn.

"Y'know, if I really wanted you dead, I'd have lopped your head clean off the second we faced each other."

Mihawk rolled his eyes. Everybody from the villagers in his hometown to his fellow crew members said that he was way too serious for a boy of his age, but the way he saw it, the rest of the world was simply too carefree for him. Even the captain of his crew often teased him about scaring children and small animals away just by glaring at them.

"Where's Shuusui?" the young swordsman suddenly asked. The black blade had been his most trusted ally in his brief tenure as a pirate, and the very sword with which he beat Seidou.

Seidou reached onto a shelf and handed Mihawk the sword none too carefully. Mihawk threw a dirty look at the Jolly Roger pirate, who simply grinned some more.

"Don't give me that look! Considering the state that that things in, wouldn't it be smarter to sell it? Once word gets around of your new title, of course."

Mihawk was about to glare some more, but both swordsmen were suddenly interrupted by a bespectacled black-haired man bursting into the sick bay. His phyical appearance may have been wholly unimpressive, but Mihawk and Seidou paid attention to him. After all, when Silvers Rayleigh, the first mate of Gold Roger himself, injected himself into a conversation, it'd be in your best interest to listen.

"Yeah?"

"Emergency meeting. Dining room. NOW."

Rayleigh's tone made it clear that the meeting would involve Seidou, whether he liked it or not. Grumbling a bit, the blond pirate followed Rayleigh out of the sick bay. Mihawk, feeling that he had nothing better to do (it wasn't really in his spirit to just go out and brag; word of his accomplishment would get around fast enough without him), followed.

Rayleigh turned his head once or twice and peered at the young pirate, but made no comment. When the finally walked into the dining room of the Oro Jackson, even Mihawk had to whistle; it seemed bigger than his own captain's entire ship. An enormous table could be seen, on its side and placed against the wall (why it didn't capsize the ship was anyone's guess). The chairs were nowhere in sight.

Forming a circle around the room were the rest of Roger's crew (some of them clearly drunk off their asses and having been dragged into the meeting against their will). There was the charming gunner Peggy Read, the grouchy cook Samuel Newport, the always bickering cabin boys Buggy and Shanks, and a whole lot of other people that he couldn't be bothered to remember.

In the center of it all, however, was the most famous of them: the Pirate King himself, Gold Roger. The sheer power that radiated off of him would probably have blown lesser men and women across the Grand Line. Only when the young swordsman get closer did he realize that Roger was wearing a confused expression that nobody would have associated with him in a hundred years.

"Hello," he said, but without any of the booming confidence that Mihawk had heard from him when the two first men. The difference in tone was, to say the least, jarring. "Can the two of you tell me where I am?"

Mihawk blinked in confusion and simply stared at Roger for a few moments. Looking deep into the Pirate King's eyes, Mihawk realized that instead of confidence and fearlessness, there was only confusion and... fear?

"Some of you," Rayleigh said, snapping Mihawk out of his silent analysis. "May be unaware of how this state of affairs came to be, or even what's going on. To make a long story short, our beloved captain Roger-san has experienced memory loss."

A flurry of confused murmurs broke out amongst the Jolly Roger pirates. The most powerful man in the word losing his memory? Surely, it cannot be!

Rayleigh waited until the chatter began to die down before clearing his throat and continuing. "Naturally, with Vice-Admiral Garp pursuing us and whatnot, it's imperative that we restore his memory as soon as possible. Suggestions?"

"Wait a minute," Peggy stated, raising her hand. "How'd this happen in the first place?"

"That's not important right now," Rayleigh replied, though Mihawk couldn't help but notice that his averted eye contact when he said it. "What's important is curing it."

"Just go out and say it," Newport stated. "He got beaned in the head with a coconut."

Nearly every pirate's face arranged itself into a "you have got to be kidding" expression. The almighty Gold Roger, rendered helpless by a coconut?

"I've got a suggestion!" a tall, thin man with brown hair said, raising his hand high. "How's 'bout Peggy kissing him? If that doesn't jostle his brain, then he can't call himself a man!"

Peggy responded with a furiously blushing face and a "How 'bout you kiss him, jackass?!" Before anyone else could say anything, the sole female member of the Jolly Roger pirates pushed him right toward Roger, and you can probably guess what happened next...

SMOOCH!

There was a sound like a plunger being pulled out of a toilet, and the brown-haired man recoiled in disgust, placing as much distance between himself and Roger as possible. Roger, for his part, simply looked confused.

"Yuck! Gross! Peggy, that was low, even for you!"

"You started it, you-"

THWACK! WHAM!

"So," Rayleigh continued, ignoring the other Jolly Roger pirates' horrified looks at the sight of Peggy and the brown-haired man's unconscious bodies. "Any other suggestions?"

Shanks and Buggy, who had been the entire time muttering in a corner, entirely unnoticed by the Roger Pirates, emerged from the throng, much to the surprise of most of them.

"Yes?" Rayleigh said, a hint of surprise on his face.

"Well, me and Buggy were thinking..."

"The captain's always had a thing for booze..."

"So, why not..."

"Have him drink 'til he can remember?"

"_That's _your brilliant suggestion?!" Newport interjected with an incredulous look on his face. "Whoever heard of alcohol jogging memories?"

"Why not?" Seidou suddenly spoke up, startling Mihawk. "Unless anyone else has got a suggestion?"

The crowd around them shuffled their feet and began muttering again, but it was clear that none of them had anything better to suggest. Seeing nobody to counter his statement, Seidou grinned (perhaps a little more gleefully than he should have) and ran right out the door. Shanks and Buggy followed him.

Rayleigh crossed his arms and began muttering something about youngsters these days "having nothing to do besides getting drunk off their asses."

Ten minutes later, Seidou burst back into the dining room, Shanks and Buggy in tow. All three were carrying either crates or barrels, and Mihawk didn't need to ask to know what was in them.

Neither Shanks nor Buggy had mentioned a party, but within five minutes, one was in full swing. Mihawk sighed and pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. He had no love for alcohol to begin with, and he certainly wasn't going to stick around if he didn't want to wake up with a headache in the morning. The young swordsman turned to leave the dining room, but not before hearing a snippet of Seidou and Peggy's conversation.

"Seidou, what are you doing with that? You know that's the captain's private ale!"

"Keep yer nose outta this! I've been wanting to taste this for months!"

Mihawk contemplated alerting Rayleigh to this, but to do that, he had to find the bespectacled man first. He didn't have to look very hard - he found Rayleigh in a corner of the room, handing a bottle to the memory-deprived Roger. Not surprisingly, he and Newport were the only ones who seemed to remember Roger's condition.

Roger pressed the bottle to his lips and took several long gulps before swallowing. When he opened his eyes again, it was obvious that nothing had happened.

Rayleigh sighed and handed him another, slightly larger, bottle. Roger obediently drank this one too, but to apparently no better result. The first mate clapped a hand to his forehead and led Newport away, evidently to discuss another method. Roger, for his part, stood in the corner, as if awaiting instructions about what to do next.

His mind made up, the young swordsman began to take several steps toward Rayleigh, but before he could get within speaking range, sensed something hurtling toward him. Instinctively, he ducked, and his sharp eyes caught the sight of a wooden mug flying over his head...

... and toward a large, muscular pirate, who was juggling barrels as entertainment.

Mihawk covered his eyes. This could not end well.

CRASH!

"Oof!"

"Roger-san! Look ou-"

WHAM!!!

Mihawk opened a tiny gap between his index finger and middle finger, just wide enough to make out what had happened: Roger, the Pirate King and the strongest man in the world, had just been beaned by a wooden barrel, and not a very large one at that.

"Roger-san!"

"Are you alright?!"

"This is all your fault!"

"Me?!"

"You're the one who was juggling the barrels!"

"How 'bout you?! You threw that mug!"

"Uuuuuugghhh....."

"Roger-san!"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"... does this mean I'm captain now?"

Roger, holding his temple, steadily got up. When the Pirate King finally opened his eyes, a chill ran through everybody in the room, including Mihawk. The fearless gleam in his eyes had returned.

"... what's are you all doing? You've started a party without me?! I oughta maroon all of you for this!"

Mihawk could discern a hint of jest in his booming voice, but he still sounded pretty convincing. His crewmates, however, were obviously used to him sounding like this, and thusly ran up to him, embracing him as if he had just recovered from a life-threatening injury.

"Roger-san!"

"You're back!"

"Back? Where'd I go?"

Somewhere behind him, Mihawk could hear Seidou cursing under his breath, saying something along the lines of "And he just had to wake up just when I was about to drink his ale..."

Either Roger had extremely sharp ears, or he just made a lucky move, because at that very moment, he suddenly locked eyes with Seidou. More precisely, what he was holding.

"SEIDOU!" he thundered, letting off a burst of Haki that nearly made Mihawk faint. "WHAT THE $#& ARE YOU DOING WITH MY ALE?!"

Even when he was fighting off unconsciousness, there was just something about Roger chasing Seidou around the dining room that made Mihawk almost want to laugh

==End of Chapter 25==

Well, it's been pretty damn long since my last update for this fic, so I made this chapter a bit longer.

As you can tell, this chapter takes place during the days when Gold Roger was still alive and sailing the high seas. There are probably a few continuity errors here and there (if I remember correctly, Roger was declared Pirate King pretty damn late into his career, so Buggy should have already eaten his Devil fruit, so he probably shouldn't be so chummy with Shanks), but one should never let that get in the way of a story.

"Seidou" means "bronze" in Japanese. If you've been paying attention to the Jolly Roger Pirates, you'll see why I named him that. The title of "strongest swordsman" was originally going to go to Rayleigh, but I figured that the guy already had enough titles.

And for those of you who think Mihawk becoming greatest swordsman at 18 is a stretch: Zoro's only a year older than he is in his fic, and he's trying to accomplish it!

And now for our "Trope Corner": Easy Amnesia is a stock plot, commonly seen in cartoons and sitcoms. A simple bump on the head will cause a character to completely lose their memories, yet retain the ability to think, speak, walk, etc.

In real life, bumps like the ones seen on TV (knocking the victim unconscious seems to be a requirement) would most likely cause a concussion, if not induce internal bleeding and a whole bunch of other shit that would basically kill you.

A blow to the head is also a convenient way to return the victim's memory, despite this being likely to make real-life amnesia _worse_ instead of better. Amnesia generally takes time to heal, if it ever does.


	26. Black Hole Sue

Disclaimer: I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 26==

"Ararararararara..."

Admiral Aokiji, AKA Kuzan, pulled his sleep mask off of his eyes, blinking several times to clear his vision. All things considered, he really shouldn't be so relaxed and carefree, seeing as how Whitebeard's forces were probably going to be invading Marineford any day now, but it simply wasn't in his nature to suddenly turn into a panicky admiral who trained all day and night and barked at soldiers if they so much as wore their caps backward. That, after all, was Akainu's job.

The admiral slowly began to stand up, careful to not overbalance and fall over. Being tall had its advantages, and its disadvantages. Being in constant danger of falling down like a chopped-down tree was definitely one of the latter.

Still only vaguely aware of his actions, the marine admiral cruised through his normal morning routine: getting dressed, brushing his teeth, picking up the _Marineford Gazette_... ah, another boring day. Perfect for some napping. First, however, he would have to pick up some breakfast. It was hard to sleep on an empty stomach.

One of the many perks of being an admiral was the room service; instead of going into the mess hall to eat with the "commoners", Aokiji had a special dumbwaiter installed in his room that would deliver his food right from the kitchens. The little elevator had a menu attached to it, displaying what the kitchens had to offer. He needed to only circle what he wanted with a pencil and press the nearby button, and in a minute or less, it would drop down the chute to the kitchen, allowing them to load what he wanted onto it, and then shoot back up.

Being an admiral, virtually nothing was too extravagant or outlandish for him. If he wanted to, he could have fruit and cereal for dinner and pot roast for breakfast. Today, however, Aokiji decided to cut the poor guys operating the thing a break and order a simple meal of buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee.

The service was quite impressive - in the space of two minutes, the tall admiral had gotten his desired meal. He had just picked up a slice of toast, and had it halfway to his mouth, when he heard something that caused his eyes to widen and his hand to nearly squeeze the piece of bread into a fine pulp.

"Well done, Miss Samantha! You've gotten Whitebeard to surrender simply by talking down to him! By God, I haven't seen a marine this fine since myself!"

Aokiji inserted an index finger into his ear and twisted it around for a full minute to make sure that he had heard Sengoku right.

"I must say, miss, you must be the greatest law enforcement officer in history! With your help, we'll have no trouble hauling in the rest of them!"

By now, Aokiji had forgotten all about his breakfast. Few things fazed him, but he knew Sengoku and Akainu well enough to know that the closest thing anyone got to "praise" from those two was a gruff "not bad".

No, no, he thought to himself. Probably some rookie marines fooling around with some voice-changing doohickey.

"It was nothing, guys. Oh, and just so you know: I've already beaten down that Shanks fellow. Your men will probably be finding him shortly."

"Miss... will you allow me to carry your sword...?"

"Well, if you insist..."

This had to be some kind of practical joke. Despite his laid-back personality, Kizaru would never use such a submissive tone...

"Miss Samantha... will you marry me?"

"Well, I'm already married to that Hawk-Eye fellow and that Monkey D. Luffy guy (after I kicked his ass, of course), but, I guess I can fill you in..."

Okay, this was definitely going too far, Aokiji thought as he ran out of his bedroom at top speed. Normally, he wouldn't give a damn about these kinds of things, but in this case, he was pretty sure that if he didn't find out what was going on here quick, he'd explode before it was even noon.

Not bothering with the enormous winding staircase that led to every room in the Headquarters building, Aokiji settled for leaping down the very center and landing with a rather loud CRASH on the tiled floor of the building's foyer.

He soon regretted that decision.

The looks on Sengoku's, Akainu's, Kizaru's, and Smoker's faces alone would be enough to make him question his own sanity, but it was the girl with them that really did it. She couldn't have been older than twenty, but everything about her seemed oddly, unnaturally perfect. Her golden hair was braided into a long, intricate ponytail that trailed behind her. Her eyes, large and green, somehow gave off a sense of innocence and seduction at the same time. Her body would have definitely put even Boa Hancock to shame, and her clothes... Aokiji didn't think that _anyone_ could have made so many adjustments to a standard marine uniform and still not look stupid.

"Oh, hi there! You must be Aokiji."

The marine admiral had the strange urge to bow down to this girl whom he had just met and kiss her boot. This urge was then beaten to a pulp, stabbed through the heart, kicked in the balls, made to eat cyanide, and forced to read _Countdown to Final Crisis _by the urge to run to the nearest bathroom and vomit. Or kill the girl.

"W-Who... is... this...?" Aokiji asked through clenched teeth, forcing himself to not make eye contact.

"Isn't she lovely?" Sengoku replied (Aokiji did his best to not gag at his tone). "We picked her up on an uncharted island in the Grand Line. She can read poneglyphs, beat Hawk-Eye in a swordfight, _and_ she's eaten the Toki Toki fruit, which allows her to bend time to her will!"

"That's... great..." Aokiji muttered. "Uh, listen... I've gotta go to the bathroom..."

"Okay... later, then!"

Aokiji ran in the direction of the closest bathroom, trying his hardest to block out the sounds of Sengoku and co. lavishing even more praise on the girl. While it was true he didn't bother himself with understanding most worldly events, he had to draw the line somewhere. The Whitebeard War had been one of them, and now, this "Samantha" girl was one of them.

But what was it about the girl that he found so repulsive? She was on the marines' side, after all, and was it not a good thing that she had brought such troublemakers such as Whitebeard and Red-Hair in? Maybe he should just pretend that it was business as usual and carry on like always?

_Crrreeeeaak..._

He didn't know why, but his entire body stiffened up as he heard the bathroom door swing open. This was ridiculous. There was no reason for him to be intimidated by a girl like that!

"Are you gonna bow down to me, or am I gonna have to resort to drastic measures?"

A million and one retorts swirled in Aokiji's head the instant that he saw the girl standing a few feet away from him, a piercing glare coming from her eyes that would have made a lesser man crumble.

"This is the men's bathroom, kid."

"Don't call me "kid". What are you so afraid of, anyways? This world was born to be my playground. Everybody either becomes my loyal, willing slaves... or I do away with them."

With every step that Samantha took toward him, Aokiji felt himself literally melting. Ironic, he thought, considering his powers. He knew that he would never be able to take her in a straight fight; he didn't know how the girl would win, he just knew that she would. His willpower was crumbling every second, which left him with only one option besides "bow down to her and obey her every word".

"Fuck this. I'm moving over to DC."

And just as Samantha's outstretched hand was about to touch him, everything around Aokiji suddenly vanished. The tiled walls and floors, the scent of lilac in the air - all disappeared into thin air. The fact that Samantha had disappeared alone was worth it.

Replacing them were tall, looming buildings, stretching eerily up to a dismal-looking blood-red sky in every direction. The scent of smog tinted the air, making the marine's nose wrinkle slightly. The streets were dark and cracked, while the houses around him were in little better condition.

And despite it all, the tall marine smiled. He took a step forward, and another, and another. Even if he had read the sign a few feet behind him, he wouldn't have stopped. Anything was better than living in a world with that monstrosity.

Yes, even if he had read the cracked, dirty, graffiti-covered sign that said, "WELCOME TO GOTHAM CITY".

==End of Chapter 26==

Cliffhanger! Dun dun dun!

Forgive me if Aokiji was acting a little out of character here, but by the time that I thought about using Enel instead, I already had half the story written. Rest assured, this storyline will be picked up on in the following chapter... which will come out when I say so! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Most, if not all, of you are probably familiar with what a Mary Sue is. TV Tropes, however, has dedicated itself to mapping out the various species of Mary Sue. The type of Sue seen here, the Black Hole Sue, is perhaps the most annoying. Her key traits are that she makes the entire plot, world, characters, etc. bend to her every whim, just as a black hole possesses so much gravity that not even beams of light can escape its pull.

Why the hell is Aokiji (somewhat) immune to this Mary Sue's charms? I've got no fucking clue. The next chapter will feature some more characters with the same "immunity" that he has, so some suggestions would be nice.

How the hell did he just travel to the DCU? Because the plot demanded that he be able to so.

Read & Review, everybody!


	27. Here We Go Again

Disclaimer: I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 27==

"WOO-HAHAHA!"

"Joker, keep it down! Do ya want the whole city to know we're here?"

"Oh, lighten up, Ozzy!

"Honestly... why am I even here?"

"Took the words right outta my mouth. I could read up on a hundred different phobias with all the time I've wasted here!"

"Stupid coin commanded me to be here."

"Hey, if Mistah J says we're going to throw a party for the new guy on the block, then we're throwing one! End of discussion!"

"Riddle me this: What has legs but cannot walk?"

"You, if you don't zip your pie-hole!"

As the various voices on the other side of the door continued to chat away, Blackbeard's mishmash of comrades (consisting of himself, a long-nosed guy who claimed to lead eight thousand fierce warriors, the "Pirate Hunter" Roronoa Zoro, the rookie pirate Trafalgar Law, and a bare-chested man with earlobes that reached to his knees) looked at each other quizzically. From each of their experiences with him, they didn't exactly take Admiral Aokiji to be the kind that would throw a party and invite a half-dozen people.

A simultaneous shrug, and the long-earlobed man promptly kicked open the door.

"..."

"Who invited you people?"

A torrent of laughter poured out of Blackbeard's mouth. The huge pirate couldn't stop himself; in all his years on the Grand Line, he had never seen a odder bunch. Their bodily proportions weren't anything out of the ordinary, but their wardrobes were the weirdest he had seen in his life. He couldn't even decide which one was the funniest-looking; was it the clown in the purple tuxedo? The girl dressed like a court jester? The guy in a form-fitting green spandex bodysuit that had a giant question mark over it?

The huge pirate continued to laugh for what seemed like an eternity to him, only stopping when he felt something heavy yet soft collide with his face. Looking up, he saw that the jester-girl had an over-sized gun in her hands, with a boxing glove on a spring attached to the muzzle.

"What's so funny, fatso?"

"Now, Harl..." the clown in the purple tuxedo stated in a soothing voice. "Let me handle this: WHAT'S SO FUNNY, FATSO?"

"Ara, ara... can't a man get a little peace here?"

Blackbeard's face split into a wide grin when he saw the man that they had come here for: the marine admiral Aokiji, in all his snappily-dressed glory. The expression on his face was one of boredom, but if one looked closer, one would find a hint of irritation as well.

"You _know_ why we're here, Mister "Lazy-Ass Justice"," Blackbeard heard Roronoa state in an extremely serious tone (though he could have sworn that he heard a hint of fear in it as well).

"Yeah!" Blackbeard followed up (he made a note to himself to invite Roronoa to join his crew later). "Now, get your behind up, and let's-"

He lost track of his sentence as soon as a delicious-smelling aroma reached his nostrils. He took a couple more whiffs, turned around, and realized that there was a long table laden with food against the wall on his right-hand side. With a feral grin, the enormous pirate launched himself at the table and began to cram three or four chicken legs down his throat at the same time. A blissful smile came upon his face as he chewed, and chewed, and swallowed. After months of nothing to eat but what their new "Empress" dictated, it was good to taste sweet, sweet meat again.

All of a sudden, however, his eyes began to water up, and his tongue felt as if it was being pricked by hundreds of needles. Raising his head to the ceiling, the enormous pirate roared the first word that came to his mind.

"HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!"

And he could've sworn that he saw a brief flicker of flame in the air as he yelled...

As he rushed to find the nearest beverage (in this case, a large bottle with about a liter or two of some black liquid inside), he heard two voices laughing: a man's and a woman's. This laughter was accompanied by various groans.

"Same old Joker..." Blackbeard heard another feminine voice mutter as he quickly gulped down the stuff in the bottle (whatever the hell it was...). When he drained it dry, he set it back onto the table.

Aokiji rolled his eyes. "You guys have forgotten why you're here already, haven't you?"

"Uh, no," the long-nosed kid said in a slightly shaky voice. "We... need your help and everything, so, uh, can you lend us a hand against th-that Samantha chick?"

"And if I say no?"

The long-nosed boy got on his hands and knees so fast that Blackbeard could have sworn that even the fastest Soru user would be a turtle compared to him.

"PLEASE! PLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASE! YOU HAVE TO HELP US! THAT HORRID GIRL MAKES US SHINE HER BOOTS AND IRON HER CLOTHES AND USES US FOR HER FOOTSTOOL EVERY DAY! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I'LL TURN MYSELF IN! I'LL GIVE YOU EVERY CENT I'VE GOT! I'LL PRAISE YOU UNTIL MY DYING DAY! PLEASE! JUST HELP US!"

This outburst was followed by him breaking into real tears and sobbing. By now, even Blackbeard couldn't restrain his sympathy, and by the looks of it, everyone in the room was looking upon him with either pity, sympathy, annoyance, or some combination of the three. The bare-chested man had his head averted from the scene, but Blackbeard felt that even he felt something.

"Quit bawling, you big baby! You're ruining my suit!" the purple-suited clown said.

"I should've brought my umbrella along..." the man in the top hat and tuxedo muttered.

"Show a little dignity, will you?" the man in the black-and-white suit muttered.

Despite these words, the long-nosed boy continued sobbing for five more minutes, only stopping to look up when he saw Aokiji finally get up.

"Alright, alright! Jesus!"

XOXOXOXO

"Hissatsu Hi no Tori Boshi!"

"Hyaku-Hachi Pound Hou!"

"El Thor!"

Samantha easily jumped out of the way, dodging all three attacks. "Ha! Is that the best you guys can do?"

"Not even close," an icy voiced sounded behind her. "Ice Age."

In an instant, the grassy plain that the six-on-one battle was taking place on found itself under siege from an enormous wave of frost. Barely a second later, the entire area had been turned into a shining, frozen wasteland.

"Ha! Like that's gonna do you any - WHOA!"

Blackbeard couldn't help but smirk as the sickeningly powerful girl slipped on the icy ground and landed (painfully, it sounded) on her bottom. Her entire body trembling with rage (or was it from the cold?), Samantha stood back up and whipped her body around ninety degrees, shooting a glare at Aokiji.

"That's the last mistake you'll ever make, pal!"

With that, the girl took in a deep breath and blew out a huge stream of flame at the marine admiral. Seizing the opportunity, the three opponents standing behind her rushed at her, their weapons drawn and ready (even Roronoa, who Blackbeard would have taken to have a deeper sense of honor, did it with a look of relish on his face).

For a moment, it seemed as if they would prevail.

"Nice try."

BZZZZZZZZZT!

"GAAAH!"

"YOW!"

So, of course, she'd pull another power out of nowhere and fry them. But really... control over lightning? Blackbeard couldn't help but wonder if one of her many abilities was to copy Devil fruit powers.

"How dare you, knave! The ability to wield the power of God belongs to me and me alone!"

TCHUK!

Blackbeard fought off the urge to wince; no matter how many times he had seen someone do it, getting a sword run through one's body was never a pretty sight. The voice in the back of his head was probably wondering how the hell a sword would be able to pierce someone who was made of lightning, but his conscious mind had given up on making sense out of the girl's abilities long ago.

The long-earlobed man, his mouth gaping open and his eyes a pair of wide, blank windows, slumped to the ground with an unceremonious _thump_. Had he not made a soft groan after hitting the ground, Blackbeard would have figured him dead.

"Heh. Now, who's nex - HEY!"

Blackbeard's face split into a wide grin. While Samantha had been fighting off the three, she had failed to notice that Aokiji had survived her attack. The long-nosed kid's speculations had been spot-on, she was so arrogant that she had moved very little while fighting them, and as a result, had failed to notice that Aokiji had made shackles of ice around her ankles.

"Alright, buster! You've just bought yourself a one way ticket to -"

"Room," Blackbeard heard a calm voice state some distance to his left. He looked up into the starry sky, and saw an enormous dome-like structure enveloping the ice-covered battlefield.

"Wh-what the hell is this?"

Blackbeard saw the shackles beginning to crack, and he knew that it was only a matter of seconds before Samantha was free. The huge pirate couldn't help but hope that Trafalgar was quick on the draw.

"Shambles."

No time to dawdle. The time to act was now. The enormous pirate willed his own Devil fruit's powers to activate, grinning slightly at the sight of the shadows on the ground expanding until they covered nearly everything within a ten-foot radius.

He saw Samantha suddenly appear in front of him, and fought off the urge to act surprised. He couldn't risk breaking his concentration. Besides, she had a confused look on her face instead of a smug one. A good sign.

"BLACK HOLE!"

"Hey, what the...?"

Blackbeard could see a mixed look of shock and terror on her face, and he couldn't have felt more pleased. He knew, however, that it would not last for more than maybe ten to fifteen seconds. That was all the time he needed.

He redoubled his efforts, willing the black hole in front of him to increase its gravitational pull. All around him, he could hear trees, bushes, rocks, what-have-you, all being pulled into the swirling vortex. Subconsciously, he hoped that Trafalgar had used his Devil fruit ability to pull the others out of range, though it wasn't really any skin off of his nose if they all got pulled in, too.

"You bastard! I'll have myyyyyyy ..."

And then, Marshall D. Teach heard no more from her.

Just to be on the safe side, however, he kept the vortex going for a couple more seconds, before finally relaxing his concentration. "LIBERATION!"

A veritable shower of debris flew out of the black hole, mostly plants and rocks crushed to a fine pulp by the sheer gravity inside it. In the center, however, was the sight that he had always wanted to see: Samantha's body, crushed nearly beyond recognition, flying into the air like a rag doll.

XOXOXOXO

"Nice work, men! The evil queen of the moon men has finally been destroyed!"

"Watch your tongue, harlequin! _I_ am the sole ruler of what you call "The Moon"!"

Blackbeard smirked at the sight of the long-nosed boy running as fast as possible from the long-earlobed man, screaming at the top of his lungs. The long-earlobed man, for his part, simply shot a blast of electricity at him. Twelve hours had passed since Samantha had been killed, and a party to celebrate the end of her tyrannical rule was in full swing. Blackbeard could hardly blame them for celebrating - she had, amongst other things, outlawed consumption of all meat, outlawed all alcohol, and used half a dozen of the world's strongest pirates as her bedroom playthings.

He saw Aokiji walking toward him, a relaxed expression on his face like always. "The higher-ups have ordered a truce, you know".

Blackbeard merely swallowed his mouthful of rum and gave a heary laugh. "Did they, now? Never would've thought it of those stiffs! Think we're gonna get some reward for this?"

Aokiji opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a loud CRACK that came from somewhere behind the two men. This sound was followed by a simultaneous gasp of shock that had to have come from at least thirty or forty people.

The marine admiral turned his eyes upon Blackbeard, who merely shrugged, hopped off of his chair, and hurried to the site of all the commotion. Behind him, he could sense Aokiji following closely.

As the crowd parted to let the two through (having a fearsome reputation known throughout the Grand Line had its perks), Blackbeard's jaw hit the ground.

A girl with long, raven hair and piercing crimson eyes had slammed the arm of "Red-Haired" Shanks into a wooden table. By the smug look on her face, Blackbeard could tell that she had done so with contemptuous ease.

The girl's mouth curved into a mocking smile. "And here I thought you'd be a challenge... you're hardly better than any of them."

As she said the second half of that sentence, she jabbed a thumb to her left. Blackbeard turned his head in the same direction, and saw Mihawk, Sengoku, the two other marine admirals (whose names he had forgotten), Ace, and Marco, each of them holding their wrists tenderly with a look of pain on their faces.

"The name's Alice," Blackbeard heard the girl say boastfully behind him. "I'm the daughter of Gold Roger himself."

The huge pirate turned around in the opposite direction, and saw, to his relief, that Aokiji had not run away again... yet, anyways.

"So... we'd better round up Roronoa and the others, eh?"

"You have to ask?"

==End of Chapter 27==

Terribly sorry for the late update, everybody. I had a hard time looking for a suitable trope that this chapter could encompass, and in the end, this was all I got.

Forgive me if this chapter seems weak and/or pointless (especially the first half). This is my first time writing any sort of Mary Sue, so I hope that she came off as appropriately overpowered and unlikeable. To compensate you guys, I'll be posting another chapter this week. This, I swear I will do.

Anyways...

"Here We Go Again" is a classic way to end a story. The protagonists have just finished their adventure, secured the treasure, found a love interest, what have you... and at the very end of the story, the seeds are sewn for another adventure similar to the one they just went through (another ghost shows up at the end of a ghost story, an adventurer makes plans to go to another island filled with dangers and treasures, etc.)


	28. Spot the Impostor

Disclaimer: I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 28==

Koby stood rigid before his commander, Vice-Admiral Garp; half out of fear, half out of sheer discipline. Garp, for his part, did not even seem to be paying attention to him, instead pacing back and forth as he munched on a donut.

When he had finally finished the pastry, Garp cleared his throat and faced the pink-haired marine. Koby fought down the instinctive urge to gulp and/or duck, and forced himself to make eye contact with the grizzled marine.

"So... you're telling me that Bon Clay is somewhere inside this building?" Garp asked in a low voice. "The same Bon Clay who ate the Mane Mane fruit?"

"Y-yes," Koby answered, hoping that his voice had not come out as a squeak.

Garp shook his head slowly. "This is bad. I assume that you know what power the Mane Mane fruit grants to a person?"

"I-it allows them to take on the appearance of anyone they've met!" Koby answered, more confidently this time. If there was one thing he excelled at as a marine, it was studying. He found Devil fruits especially fascinating.

"Correct," Garp stated. "Now, every marine inside this base knows that Bon Clay is a fugitive from the law, so they'll all be on their guard, and -"

"Hey... am I seeing double?!"

Both marines suddenly focused their attention on the door to their right, where the voice had come from.

"Why the hell are there two of-"

KRACK!

As soon as they heard the sound of a foot making contact with a skull, Garp and Koby immediately threw the door open and burst into the room behind it. There, they saw pretty much what they expected to see - two identical looking marines grappling with each other, with a third marine lying unconscious on the floor. It wasn't just any two identical marines though - apparently, Bon Clay had chosen to imitate a certain marine with long, blond hair and sunglasses (God knows where he got an extra pair, because both of them were wearing a pair).

"H-Helmeppo-san?!" Koby gasped.

Both Helmeppos turned toward the pink-haired marine recruit. "There you are! For God's sake, help me!" they shouted in perfect synchronization.

"G-Garp-san...?" Koby murmured. His knees suddenly felt as if they were about to give out under him. Classes on how to spot an impostor marine _had _been given before, but he was pretty sure that they didn't cover how to deal with people who could flawlessly shapeshift into a marine.

SNORE!

"GARP-SAN! THIS IS NO TIME TO SLEEP!" Koby yelled in a panic. As usual, his mentor had chosen the worst possible time to suddenly fall into a doze.

"Huh? Wha? Oh, it's you. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU WAKE ME UP FOR?!"

BONK!

Koby rubbed the giant bump on his head. Privately, he wondered if Garp hit him on purpose as part of some sort of training. Before he could speculate any more, however, he felt Garp's hand on his shoulder.

"Watch carefully, kid. You might be in this position one day."

Koby nodded and watched Garp strode over to the two Helmeppos, trying his hardest not to blink and miss a crucial detail. What sort of advanced technique did he intend to demonstrate this time? Some sort of sixth sense that would allow him to distinguish friend from foe? A technique that would cancel out Devil fruit powers?

He lifted each of them up by the collar...

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Put me down, Garp-san! He's the impostor, not me!"

... and tossed them out the open window behind the two of them.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....................!!!"

"Garp-san?!" Koby yelled in equal measures of disbelief and fear for his friend. Garp simply laughed. "Follow me!"

With that, the grizzled vice-admiral took a leap out of the window. Koby gulped and followed - the few months that he had spent with Garp had rendered him all but fearless to trivial things such as a fall of fifty or sixty feet.

The two Helmeppos were both lying face down in the ground, but, as evidenced by their groans of pain, neither were unconscious. As Koby walked closer, he realized that they had fallen so far that they had created an imprint of themselves on the ground.

"Aha!" Garp cried triumphantly, hauling one of the Helmeppos up by the arm. "You're coming with me, buster! We've got a nice, warm cell for the likes of you!"

"Helmeppo" groaned and pressed his hand to his cheek. In an instant, he transformed into a black-haired man whose face was adorned with blush and mascara. "How... how did you know?" he croaked out.

"Simple! You screamed louder! The real Helmeppo would've already gotten used to me doing this! He stopped screaming that loudly a few weeks ago!"

"Don't we have seastone?" Helmeppo groaned in a muffled voice (since his mouth was still pressed to the ground). "Couldn't you have used that?"

Unless Koby's eyes were deceiving him, Garp suddenly began to look awkward. "Don't be ridiculous! Doing it this way... er... builds character! Yeah, that's it!"

Helmeppo muttered something that sounded remarkably similar to "stupidest thing I've ever heard..."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Garp snapped. Koby flinched; despite his age, Garp's hearing was apparently strong as ever. "Just for that, you two are going to be running two hundred laps right now! Hop to it!"

Koby groaned and walked in the direction of the track, taking care to trample on Helmeppo's head along the way.

==End of Chapter 28==

Yes, I know I was supposed to get this chapter out yesterday, but my computer broke down. Had to rewrite half of it from scratch. (And you thought you'd seen the last of Garp in this fic? Ha)

Note: Koby and Helmeppo are supposed to have their Water 7 designs, but haven't completely turned into badasses yet. They're still kinda-sorta wimps.

Aaaaaand moving on...

Spot the Impostor is a situation that is bound to occur whenever a shapeshifter (or just some master of mundane disguise) enters a story. Long story short: they disguise themselves as a member of the main cast, and another character (ninety-nine percent of the time, someone who's close to the one they're disguised as) has to distinguish which one is the impostor. They often do so by finding a quirk of the impersonated character (which the impostor has failed to account for). Many times, this quirk is a positive trait.

And for anyone who cares: Laugh it Up chapter 4 will be out soon.


	29. For Want of a Nail

Disclaimer: I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 29==

KRACK!

_TCHUK. TCHUK. TCHUK._

"Klahadore-san!"

"Klahadore-san?"

The man that everyone in Syrup Village knew as Klahadore groaned. Dozens of images spun before him, most of them involving the man whom he hated the most: a certain long-nosed teenager who lived in this very village.

He felt several blades dig into his body, coming from at least five different directions. A whirlpool of emotion swirled through him: was he going to die? Had these three years all been for nothing? His plan could not fail! It simply could not! He, the great Captain Kuro, would almost prefer dying at the hands of that Usopp than this!

But as his eyes closed, his final thought ran through his head: who the hell decided to place a barrel full of swords atop a tall shelf, where a loose nail could easily cause the floor only a few feet above to give way?

XOXOXOXO

The smile on Krieg's face could not have been smugger. The same ocean that had reduced his five-thousand-man armada to shreds a few months ago was now at his beck and call. Thanks to the log book that he had taken from the former pirate "Red Leg" Zeff, no storm or whirlpool was a match for him.

True, the ship that they had _persuaded_ Zeff and his comrades to give to them was a bit tacky looking, but, hey. Better a bit humbled than six feet under. Besides, most who laughed at their ship only did so for the scant amount of time that they had before they got run through by a sword. Besides, the fish design had grown on Krieg a little, he had to admit.

"Land ho, captain!"

Krieg looked up, spotting the island of Whiskey Peak in the distance. Zeff had meticulously detailed the island's most attention-grabbing feature: the enormous cactus-like mountains. As Krieg placed a telescope to his eye, he realized that the "spines" of the "cacti" were, in actuality, gravestones. Thousands of them.

XOXOXOXO

Nefertari Vivi stumbled as she tried to walk through the desolate town of Whiskey Peak, but soon fell after a mere two or three steps. For the hundredth time, the blue-haired princess cursed her terrible luck. Only a few weeks ago, she had found out that the leader of the underground organization known as Baroque Works was none other than Sir Crocodile, so her and Igaram's work was done, right? All there was left to do was to inform her father of this, right?

But no, it wasn't that simple. It was never that simple. Fate, as if to give her the middle finger, had arranged for "Sneak Attack" Krieg to come to Whiskey Peak. They, as usual, had tried to collect the bounty on Krieg's head, but his reputation, as it turned out, was not exaggerated in the least. Within two minutes, half the bounty hunters had fallen to Krieg's massive arsenal. The timely arrival of Mr. 5 and Miss. Valentine certainly helped to even the odds (they had even managed to kill Krieg's battle commander and second unit commander), but Krieg, in desperation, had pulled out his ultimate weapon: the poison gas bomb MH5.

Now, there were two kinds of people in the small town: the dead and the dying. Guess which category she belonged to?

She probably had no more than a minute left. Silently, Vivi raised her head to the sky and murmured a silent apology to her father and mother. Then, to Igaram, Chaka and Pell. Then to Kohza, and finally, the entire kingdom of Arabasta. She had failed them all.

XOXOXOXO

Eneru raised an eyebrow at the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood before him. Being the sole God of Skypeia, he was certainly not used to making eye contact with people that weren't bowing down before him in fear.

"What do you want, knave?"

The large man puffed on the small log-like object in his mouth (one of the Enforcers had stated that it was an item from the Blue Sea called a "cigar", and that it was, in a sense, a smaller version of a peace pipe) before finally speaking. "Is this the fabled "Sky Island"?"

Eneru rolled his eyes. "Evidently. It's an island in the sky, isn't it? My word, are all you Blue Sea Dwellers this dense?"

The God smirked at the sight of the vein that pulsed in the man's forehead. This man may have defeated all four of his priests, but not without a few wounds of his own. Despite having eaten a Logia-type Devil fruit like himself, it was clear that this man's abilities were still inferior to his own.

"I merely came here to see if the rumors were true," Crocodile stated. "A few days back, I ran into some brat who tried to kill me with a flame-spitting seashell. Said he got it from an island in the sky."

Eneru threw his head back and laughed. "Ah, yes. The Flame Dial, eh? Consider yourself lucky to have seen one. It's not often that Dials fall to the Blue Sea."

"Watch your tongue," Crocodile snapped, all pretense of politeness gone. "Do you know who you're talking to? You're talking to the man who overthrew an entire kingdom. You're talking to the man who knows the location of the most destructive weapon in the world."

Eneru smirked as a current of electricity discreetly ran along his palm. "Consider yourself to be the God of the Blue Sea, do you? Very well. Let's see which one is superior: you, or the God of the Sky?"

XOXOXOXO

Monkey D. Dragon pinched the spot between his eyes. Things were most certainly _not_ going according to plan, to the point where he wasn't sure if there even was a plan anymore.

First, there was the whole fiasco over at Arabasta with Crocodile inciting the entire country into a civil war, then killing one million people (a rough estimate; discoveries of new casualties came in every day), including one of the marines' best men, Captain Smoker. Afterward, the World Government had put all of their effort into catching the man, which, whether they realized it or not, had seriously screwed up several of Dragon's planned revolutions; now, there were enormous battalions of marines around islands where there had been almost none mere weeks ago.

Second, one of his agents in Arabasta had, by pure luck, been hanging around the royal palace while the "climax" of the war took place. The guy had seen Nico Robin and Crocodile enter the royal mausoleum, and saw only Crocodile exiting it about half an hour later. The curious agent had entered the collapsing mausoleum, only to be greeted by the sight of a dying Nico Robin and a nearly-unconscious Nefertari Cobra. The agent, whether out of the goodness of his heart or something else, had decided to rescue both of them. He had taken the two of them to a safe house where they could recuperate, but the minute he had turned his back, Nico Robin had vanished.

When Cobra had woken up, he had told the agent the entire horrifying story: Crocodile had not only incited the war, but he now also knew Pluton's location. Dragon had arranged a meeting with the king, and informed him that if he wished to prevent Crocodile from taking control of the super-weapon, he had to inform the World Government of this immediately. Cobra had understandably reacted with hostility to him at first, but eventually agreed.

And just when he thought that everything was under control, Crocodile just upped and died. Dragon knew that some of his men could still not believe it to be true; the all-powerful (former) Shichibukai just falling out of the sky, burned and charred like a Christmas roast? How could this be?

To make things worse, the entire affair had been discovered mere days after the World Government had proclaimed Crocodile a traitor and a criminal. When they had learned of this, they had scrambled to find a replacement Shichibukai. The most convenient one, as it turned out, was a man on the nearby island of Jaya, known as Marshall D. Teach, AKA Blackbeard.

As he returned to the cabin of his ship, Dragon mused that one good thing had come of this: Portgas D. Ace, one of Whitebeard's men (who had taken it upon himself to kill Teach, a defector from Whitebeard's crew) had met up with them two days ago. The Revolutionaries needed someone with his strength. He needed all the information they had on Blackbeard's whereabouts after he had become a Shichibukai.

Then, there was also the matter of Portgas being Luffy's half-brother. Come to think of it, where was Luffy these days? The last he had heard about the kid was news of him defeating someone called Buggy in a nowhere town in the East Blue...

XOXOXOXO

Magellan stared at the smoldering ruins of the precious fortress that he had so dutifully guarded for the last couple of decades: the great undersea prison, Impel Down. Over the years, he had come to regard the place as a home, and no matter how he treated his coworkers, he had truly cared for them.

How had it come to this? How did Dragon and his Revolutionaries acquire Portgas D. Ace as a recruit? The boy, despite being a rookie at only twenty-one, had eaten perhaps the most powerful Devil fruit in existence. With the powers of the Mera Mera fruit, Portgas had all but fried half of the staff with contemptuous ease. Afterward, the Revolutionaries had broken out all of the prisoners. Every single one of the lowlifes was now running loose on the seas, doing God-knows-what to innocent citizens.

The large devil-like man felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Vice-Admiral Momonga, eyes closed respectfully. "For what it's worth, Magellan-san, I'm truly sorry to see this. I know how much this place meant to you."

Magellan made no comment. He had been lucky to survive Portgas' assault, and he knew it. Now, if he were ever to have a prayer of atoning for his pathetic failure, he would have to gather back every man and woman who had escaped from Impel Down, and kill Shiryuu once and for all. He was, after all, responsible for at least thirty percent of the Revolutionaries' victory.

As he turned around from the edge of the ship, unable to look at the pieces of stone and metal floating atop the water any longer, he felt a single drop of liquid drip from his left eye. Oh, great. Now he was losing control of his powers...

Kizaru looked around him, refusing to be intimidated by what he saw. Bodies littered the once-invincible land of Marineford - some of them pirates, but most of them marines.

"Give up yet?" Shiryuu smirked as he approached the admiral. "Surrender, and we'll end your worthless life painlessly."

"Zehahahahaha!" Blackbeard chuckled as he, too, approached Kizaru. "Guess this is the fate of the almighty World Government!"

"Yes," Shiryuu continued. "You know, it really was good of you to give us all of those recruits from Impel Down. Without them, we would've never been able to inflict all this!" he stated as he waved a hand around the war-torn land for emphasis.

Kizaru adjusted his sunglasses, now a mere pair of frames without glass. He licked the blood dribbling from the side of his head.

And he rushed the two. Would he be killed. Would he, by some miracle, actually triumph?

Did any of it matter anymore?

XOXOXOXO

_For the want of a nail, a life was lost._

_For the want of a life, a ship was lost._

_For the want of ship, a battle was lost._

_For the want of a battle, a princess was lost._

_For the want of a princess, a kingdom was lost._

_For the want of a kingdom, an advantage was lost._

_For the want of an advantage, a prison was lost._

_For the want of a prison, a government was lost._

_All for the want of a nail._

==End of Chapter 28==

Yes, this chapter requires you to suspend your disbelief a little. Like a barrel of swords being placed in such a peculiar position. Then again, a sandwich lead to World War II (long story; look it up on Cracked Dot Com), so it's not really that unrealistic.

To make things clear: Kuro's death leads to the Straw Hats never getting the Going Merry (they exit the picture at this point; Lord knows where they went). The Straw Hats' absence leads to Krieg taking over the Baratie. Krieg taking over the Baratie leads to him getting Zeff's log book, sailing the Grand Line successfully, and eventually killing Vivi. Vivi's death leads to Crocodile taking over Arabasta, learning where Pluton is, and (bear with me here) going to Skypeia.

Crocodile going to Skypeia leads to Eneru killing him, which subsequently leads to Blackbeard joining the Shichibukai prematurely. Blackbeard joining the Shichibukai prematurely causes Ace to get mixed up with the Revolutionaries. Ace getting mixed up with the Revolutionaries results in him destroying Impel Down, freeing literally every single prisoner.

(Takes a deep breath)

And finally, the breakout leads to the World Government being toppled. Got all that written down? Good.

The trope known as "For Want of a Nail" has much to do with how fragile the timestream can be; one little detail like the death of an unimportant, scheming pirate leads to the World Government being toppled. The title comes from a poem from Ben Franklin's _Poor Richard's Almanac_, which derived it from a poem by George Herbert in the 1600s.

Yes, I am fully aware of how long it took this chapter to get out, but my internet has been on the blink lately. For no reason at all, it just freezes and destroys all my documents. A real pity too, seeing as how with the completion of this chapter, there's only one more chapter to go.

Can you guess who the star will be?

(Whew... I think that was my longest chapter yet...)


	30. Chekhov's Gunman

Disclaimer: I do not own TV Tropes, nor One Piece.

==Chapter 30==

He gazed toward the sea, arms folded. The weather was relatively nice - few clouds, a warm sun, a mild breeze. If he didn't know better, he would almost say that the sea was unaware of what was going to take place in a few short moments.

He spotted their vessel in the distance: an enormous sloop-type ship that could have easily given shelter to thirty or forty people. The figurehead was attention-grabbing, yet not all that frightening; to be honest, it looked a bit silly.

To be honest, Monkey D. Luffy was the last person whom he would have expected to come this far. The boy, despite being son to the leader of the Revolutionaries, was born in a backwater village in the East Blue. Sure, the village had once been visited by "Red-Haired" Shanks once, but that had been relatively early in the Yonkou's career, when he was still relatively unknown. The very chance of the kid setting out to sea in the first place wasn't all that high to begin with.

But, hey. What was done was done. Now, the Strawhat Pirates alone stood the best chance of grabbing the legendary One Piece. He had fulfilled his promise to Roger: any who came to this island looking for it would have to go through him.

He heard the ship drop anchor with a _THUD_, and saw the nine of them set foot onto the beach:

A teenage boy in a vest & shorts, wearing a straw hat. Upon his face were a small scar and an enormous grin.

A green-haired man wearing three swords at the hip. An expression of wariness dotted his face.

A red-haired girl wielding an odd-looking blue staff. She, too, looked wary.

A dark-skinned teenage boy with a long nose. Unlike the others, he looked as if he was torn between taking another step and retreating back into the ship.

A cigarette-smoking blond man in a black suit. Upon his face was a typical "What? Is this it?" expression.

A large, hairy man with a pink top hat atop his head. He, too, looked a bit nervous, which contrasted greatly with his appearance.

A skinny black-haired woman wearing a cowboy hat. Her face was the most relaxed-looking out of all of them.

A large, muscular man who was wearing nothing more than a bright red shirt and a speedo. He, too, was smiling broadly.

And last, but not least, a skeleton with an afro, decked out in a fancy-looking tuxedo complete with stovepipe hat. Despite lacking eyes and lips, he was sure that the skeleton was approaching the island with wonder as well.

The boy in the straw hat spotted him first, and pointed a decisive finger at him. "You! Do we have to kick your ass, too?!"

The orange-haired girl bopped him, yelling something about not solving everything with violence. He chuckled to himself.

"Correct," he rumbled, grabbing all of their attentions. An apprehensive look came over several of their faces; Roronoa Zoro in particular began to unsheathe one of his swords.

After a few moments of silence, Monkey D. Luffy stepped forward, that fearless smile on his face like always. "Stay back, guys. I can handle him."

Once more, he chuckled to himself. The Grand Line had had much of an effect on the boy; if it had been only a few months ago, he probably would have focused all of his attention on his appearance instead. Everyone else on the Grand Line certainly did.

So, Roger's gamble had come down to this. Two men facing each other on the sandy shores of Raftel, ready to fight to the death over a treasure that some claimed was not even real. But he knew better. Roger definitely had left something behind for this intrepid crew to find. No matter what the outcome of this battle, the world would never be the same. The Golden Age of Piracy would certainly end... but would it give way to a new one? Who knows?

Enough thought. Time to fight.

He beat his bare chest with his fists and raised his head to the sky.

"I AM... PANDA MAN!"

==End of Chapter 30==

Well, this update came pretty quick by my usual standards... guess I just wanted to make up for the abysmally long one that came before it...

To be honest, I really believe that this is what Oda will pull on us at the end of the series; I've always suspected Pandaman of being more than just an Easter Egg character. Of course, Oda will probably kick my ass for trying to predict anything in One Piece by making up an ending ten time more unexpected, but hey...

And now for the trope: The Chekhov's Gunman is a character type that Oda appears to be fond of: someone who is introduced into the story as a relatively forgettable background character, but soon turns out to be massively important to the plot. Examples in One Piece itself include: Hachi, Laboon, Dorry and Broggy (the giants from Little Garden), Mr. 2, etc. The famed Russian author/playwright Anton Chekhov contributed to its name: "If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there".

Well, it's been a fun ride, but it's finally time to close the pages of this book. Fear not: a second volume is coming. In which category? You'll just have to wait and see.


End file.
